


Barry Allen and the Not So Great Side Effect of No Painkillers

by fallingleaves



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Broken Bones, Drabble Collection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I torture Barry Allen too much, Injury, M/M, Medical, Pain, random little stories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-04-02 20:50:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4073455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingleaves/pseuds/fallingleaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Random hurt/comfort one-shots and drabbles centering on Barry.  Basically, all the little snippets I have floating around on my computer that I can't seem to write a whole story for.  Requests welcome and chapter summaries inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Human Cannonball

**Author's Note:**

> Barry and Captain Cold are working together to try and capture Grod when things head south. Pre-slash? Sort of? Lots of angsty hurt Barry.

Leonard Snart doesn’t know how it happens.  One second everything is fine and they’re battling Grod in the south district of the city, the next Grod is gone and a building has collapsed.

            And Barry Allen is screaming on the ground.

            There was wreckage everywhere, and Barry’s half buried underneath it.  The building fell inwards, thank God, and it was not a large one either.  It looked like Barry had run into it, tried to run up it like he did with other buildings, and it had collapsed under the force of the initial impact.  An old building, it probably hadn’t taken much.

            Snart sighed, looking around and finding the gorilla gone.  He and the Flash had been teaming up to try and get rid of the nuisance, as it kept interfering with Snart’s plans.  It looked like Grod had once again escaped back into the sewers or some other hideout the beast had.  Snart heard another yell from Barry, and started to walk over, before crouching down next to him.

            “You alright there, kid?” he asked.

            All he got was a muffled yell as a response, and Snart sighed again.  He looked up, hesitated, and let out half a groan before finally deciding to just dig him out of the rubble. 

            “I bet you’d make a nice human cannon ball,” Snart said, grunting as he lifted a beam up.  The Flash was mostly uncovered, face up, and breathing hard, his eyes closed, teeth clenched.  Snart winced when he pulled back a piece of sheet metal to expose his leg.

            “Damn, Scarlet.”

            There was blood oozing all over the place, and, yep, that was bone.  Snart grimaced.  His leg was mangled, obviously broken, it looked like in two places, and a deep gouge on his upper thigh.  His ankle was pinned under another beam.  His shoulder didn’t look too good either, and his wrist was bent sideways.  He was bleeding from his side as well, along with numerous other scrapes, and Snart was sure, one overall giant bruise, but they didn’t look serious.

            “Barry, Barry?”  Snart could hear the comm going off and Barry groaned again.

            “Yeah?” he moaned out, straining his head to one side.

            “Are you alright, what happened?”

            “He ran into a building.  It collapsed,” Snart said, close enough to the comm for it to pick up his voice and for him to hear.  “He needs medical attention.”

            He heard frantic noises on the other line, and then it was Caitlin Snow – he recognized the voice.  “We’re at least forty five minutes away right now – what’s his condition?”

            Snart looked down. “Lots of cuts.  Broken leg.  Broken wrist.  Broken or twisted ankle.  Probably torn ligature in his shoulder and he’s bleeding heavily from his thigh.”

            “Is there something you can use to wrap his thigh to stop the bleeding?”

            Snart sighed again.  God damn kid getting hurt.  He pulled off the parka and then the thin shirt jacket he was wearing underneath.  He started tearing it into strips.  “Yeah I’ve got it.”  He looked down.  Fricking kid and running into fricking buildings.  “He needs stitches.”

            “Just tie it up for now,” Caitlin said over the line.

            “I can’t get at it there’s a beam over his ankle.”

            “Can you lift it?”

            “No.”

            “You need to drag him out somehow.  He needs to get pressure off it – he heals fast, if we wait until we get there, there’s going to be more damage.”

            Great.  Speed healing. The kid was going to heal with shards of glass and metal stuck in his skin.

            “Alright, give me a minute,” he said, clearing away the debris around him.  He wasn’t going to like this.

            Snart moved around the pile.  He dug out enough area under the beam, and then crouched down to get his arms around Barry’s shoulders to pull him backwards out from under the beam.

            “What are you…” Barry said, his eyes unfocused from pain.

            “You’re not gonna like this, Scarlet.  Just hold still for me.”

            Barry let out a gasp when his arm went under his injured shoulder, and then screamed when Len gave the first tug.

            “Just hold still,” he said with a grunt, dragging Barry backwards.  Barry kept yelling and shouting in pain, and he was not making this any easier.

            “I am trying to save your pathetic ass,” he muttered as Barry banged his elbow against his skull.

            “Stop!” he cried, jerking against him, but Len just kept pulling until he was all the way free of the wreckage.  And that was when he heard the first police siren.

            “Shit.”

            He looked down.  Leave the kid.  Leave the kid, Len.  Let him get arrested, get out of there.

            But no, if he let the kid go then they’d know his identity and he’d have nothing to hang over his head.  Not to mention they’d send him to a regular hospital, probably put him through unnecessary and copious amounts of pain, and his life would be effectively ruined.

            Snart told himself he was doing it to keep his blackmail.

            He put a hand under Barry’s leg, and the other on his shoulders and lifted.  Barry screamed, thrashing, and Snart grit his teeth as a hand banged down against his head, his shoulder, his back, anywhere.  And then Barry went limp, and Snart thought he had passed out, but it seemed he was only dazed, half unconscious, because he started muttering, and his head fell against Len’s shoulder, one arm slung around him.

            The things he did for this speedster.

            Len carried him away from the scene, far enough that the sirens started to get muted.  He had his motorcycle stashed a little ways away, but didn’t think that he could get Barry on it.  Instead he walked the several blocks to one of Len’s many safe houses.  It was by no means one of his preferred ones, but at this point he was just happy he had anywhere to go that didn’t involve carrying almost two hundred pounds of dead weight speedster any farther.  The kid was not near as light as he looked.

            “I’m bringing him to a safe house,” Len said, but he got no response from the comm.  “Doctor Snow?  Caitlin?  Cisco?”  No response.  Great.  Freaking great.  The thing had died on him.

            On closer inspection, the area of the suit where he assumed it had been was a little ragged and torn.  Snart sighed.  How lucky was he?

            Or maybe how lucky was Barry.  He was starting to get more conscious, it seemed.  He shifted anyway, the muttering turning to small protests of pain.  By the time Len got to the safe house he was exhausted from carrying Barry and Barry was a shaking mess.

            Luckily for Barry this one had a real bed, with a mattress, and some rudimentary medical supplies.  He went and grabbed the kit before coming up back to Barry, who he found had his eyes open now.

            “Hey, Flash.  How you feeling?”

            “Like shit,” Barry ground out, breathing shallowly through his mouth.

            “Well, it’s about to get a lot shittier.”  Cold started looking at his leg.  The bone was out of place.  It would have to be set.  He looked back up at Barry.

            “I’d offer you the whisky, but it’s all I have to sterilize any of this with.”

            Barry grimaced.  “Can’t drink,” he gasped out, “speed metabolism.”

            “Isn’t that an unfortunate side effect,” Snart said, eyes widening.  He kneeled down next to Barry on the bed, and looked at the wound.  Then he dumped about a quarter of the whisky bottle onto it.

            Barry arched up and screamed, sounding like the noise was being yanked from his throat.

            “Easy,” Snart said, putting a hand on his hip and pinning it down.

            Barry writhed, and once he started to catch his breath scowled.  “You… you could have _warned_ me.”

            “You need to be quieter,” Snart said, “this is going to be rough, and it’s going to be painful.  You need to keep quiet so the police searching outside don’t hear you.”

            “Well sorry for my agonized screams,” Barry spat.

            “If you do it again,” Snart said, completely calm, “I’m gagging you.”

            Barry’s eyes widened, and for just a flicker of a second Len saw fear there, and then it was back to scowling anger.  “You didn’t even warn me.”

            “Not going to make things better.”  Len looked back down at his leg.  This was not going to feel good.  He looked back up at Barry’s face, mouth open, but then stopped.

            The kid was struggling to breathe, sniffing, tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.  And Len was reminded of what he actually was – just a kid, just twenty five and in a lot of pain right now, with nothing to dull it, and he sighed.

            “Alright, Scarlet, just hang tight, OK?  Gonna get the worst of it over with first.”  Len took out a knife and Barry flinched, but he only started cutting away strips of the suit, to give him better access.  Then he went up towards the head of the bed, towards his face, with a strip of the leather in his hands.

            Barry’s eyes widened, and he tried to push back.  “No – Cold, no, I’ll – I’ll be quiet.”

            Len stopped, pausing, and then shook his head.  “No, kid, no, I’m not gagging you, look, it’s just something to bite down on, OK – it’ll make it easier.”

            Barry gave him a suspicious look, but when Len lowered it down to his face he opened his mouth up tentatively and took it between his teeth.

            “There, alright,” Len said, before moving back towards his leg.  “You ready?”

            He didn’t look ready, he looked terrified and in a lot of pain, but he didn’t scream stop or anything, so Len just nodded.  “Alright.  I’ll count to three, OK?  One, two –”

            He snapped the bone back before he’d finished the number and Barry’s whole body arched, and he screamed around the leather in his mouth, shuddering afterwards.

            He spat the leather out and immediately was yelling. “You – you said you’d count to th-three!”

            “I lied,” Snart said, already inspecting the now gaping wound where the bone had been.  “Remember?  We’ve been over this.”

            Barry shuddered out a breath, swearing colorfully, a string of curses tumbling from his mouth.

            “I need to stitch this up,” Snart said.  “Do you think you can handle that?”

            Barry just kept swearing, and Snart took up the needle and fishing wire he had.  It wasn’t going to be perfect, but it was enough to close the wound.  He put a hand down on Barry’s leg, and he flinched.

            “Alright, I’m starting,” he said.  Barry didn’t seem to take any notice.

            Snart put in the first stitch and Barry screamed.  Len stopped, turning.  “What did I tell you about screaming?”

            “It hurts,” Barry ground out, clenching his teeth.  Len moved up and put the leather back in between his teeth.

            “Bite down,” he said, giving him a look.  He went back to the stitches.

            Snart got it done quickly, or as quickly as he could.  The one from the broken bone didn’t need that many, but when he moved to Barry’s thigh it was a different matter.  He started squirming and flinching like crazy, muffled noises of pain coming up his throat the whole time.  He poured more whiskey on it, and only had a few of the stitches in before it was getting too hard to do.  Frustrated, Snart stopped, and looked back up.

            “Barry,” Snart said, pausing, making eye contact.  “I need you to hold still.” His voice was firm, and he pushed one hand down against his hip again, pinning it.  He started again, but only managed two more before Barry was pulling away again, pushing himself backwards on the bed, and Snart growled.  “Barry –” he started to shout and then stopped.

            Barry’s eyes were squeezed shut and there were tears running down the sides of his face now.  He was covered in sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead, and he was biting down so hard it looked like even with the leather he was going to hurt his teeth.

            Len sighed, and then patted his leg in what he hoped would be a comforting manner.  “Just relax, kid,” he said, softer this time.  “Take a deep breath.  I’m almost done.”

            That was a lie, but Len went back to it, and he made do with what he could, leaning his elbow down against Barry’s waist when he needed to in order to keep him still.  It was a grueling process, and Snart started to hope the kid would just pass out already, but he didn’t.  He stayed stubbornly awake the whole time. 

            Afterwards, Len started to wrap up the wound on his thigh, using bandages now instead of torn strips of shirt.

            “Alright, that’s all done,” he said, “I don’t think there’s anything else that needs stitches.  I’m gonna take a look at your ankle.”

            “No,” Barry said suddenly, and it caught him by surprise.  Snart looked back up at him to find Barry struggling to lean forward enough to see.  He had spit out the leather again and as Len watched he wiped the back of his arm across his face.  His eyes were still red and puffy, and tear stains sliding down his skin.  He took in a shuddering breath, looking at Snart with determination, which was a thin mask for the fear underneath.

            “Listen, Scarlet, you’re really banged up.  Your doctor friends won’t be here for at least another half hour, and then they’re probably not going to be able to find the safe house anyway.  I can’t take you out there, because there’s cops everywhere.  You need to get fixed up.  I can give you some Advil, but I don’t have anything stronger.”

            Barry shook his head.  “Doesn’t work – painkillers, anesthetics – none of them are strong enough.”  His eyes flitted down to his ankle, and he cringed.

            Len shook his head though.  “See, even your doctor’s can’t give you pain medication, so there’s no reason not to do it now.”

            Fear flashed in his eyes as Len reached down for his ankle, and he cried out, “Wait!”

            Len looked up, a dark look in his eyes.  “ _Scarlet_ ,” he said, a warning in his voice.

            Barry shook.  “Just, just, wait, it’s fine – it’ll – I heal fast, it’s fine.”

            “Yeah, you heal fast,” Snart said, “so you need it set now if the bone’s out of place.  You’ll have to have it re-broken if you don’t fix it now.”

            Barry’s face crumpled.  “Fine,” he said, his tone defiant.  He let his back drop against the mattress, but Len could hear him hyperventilating, still trembling with the pain.

            “Do you want the bit –”

            “No,” he snapped, and Snart sighed.  He used the knife to cut away some more of the material, and then he pressed two fingers to his skin.

            Barry arched up and pulled back suddenly.  “Ah, _agh_ ,” he cried out, and Snart got a grip on his leg, holding it in place.  He felt around the bone some more and he had Barry arching.  “Easy, _easy_ ,” Barry said, his voice filled with pain, “not – ah, not so _hard_.”

            “Deep breaths,” Snart said, ignoring him and continuing to inspect the bone.  “You’re going to feel a sharp snap.”

            “Wait, no!” Barry cried out, only for Snart to wrench his ankle back into place, making him scream before he turned to the side and vomited up bile over the edge of the bed.

            “Alright, easy, it’s all done,” Snart said, once again patting his good leg to try and get him to calm down.  He reached over and got more bandage, and started wrapping up the ankle, making Barry wince.

            “Please tell me that’s everything,” Barry said, groaning.  Snart grimaced and moved up towards the head of the bed.

            “Let me see your wrist,” he said, hand out for it.  Barry had it cradled in near his chest.

            He looked at him with trepidation.  “It’s f-fine,” he said, pulling away from Snart.

            “It’s not fine,” Len said steadily.  “Now let me see it.”

            “It doesn’t need to be set,” Barry said.

            “Then I’ll only have to wrap it up.”

            “It’ll heal fine on its own.”

            “ _Flash_.”

            “It will.”

            Snart grabbed his arm, and wrenched it away.  When he touched the wrist, Barry cried out.

            “Ju-just let it alone, please,” Barry said, pulling back weakly.

            “It looks like you’re right – it’s broken, but it’s a clean break,” Snart said.

            “So just – just give it back,” Barry said, pulling again.  Another tear fell down his face and now all Len could see was the fear and pain on his face.  He wasn’t trying to mask it anymore, was beyond that.

            “I’m just gonna wrap it up for you, Scarlet, I swear,” he said, more gently this time.  He wrapped it up with the bandage.  He didn’t have anything to splint any of the breaks with, but he figured the kid wouldn’t be moving much anyway.  Little whimpers snuck out of his mouth as Len finished wrapping it, doing it tightly to hold the bone in place.  He moved over to his opposite shoulder when he was finished, lowering the wrist down on the bed.

            “There,” he said, pointing to his wrist, “don’t move it.” 

            He started on his shoulder, feeling around the edges.  Barry said nothing the whole time, and Snart was starting to think he finally had passed out when he heard a sudden hissing breath again.

            “I think it’s dislocated,” Snart said.  He didn’t get any response, and he looked down.  “Does it feel dislocated?”

            “No.”

            Snart gave him a look, but Barry just looked away, off to the side.  He was breathing harshly through his mouth still, and he was back to scowling as well.

            “Scarlet.”

            “It’s just bruised.”

            “ _Scarlet_.”

            He wouldn’t meet his eyes and Snart sighed.  “I’m going to pop it back in,” he said.  “I need you to relax.”

            “Good luck with that.”

            “Barry,” he snapped, “I know you’re in pain, but this is the last one, OK?  Just get this done with me.”

            Barry shifted, and then he huffed.  “Why are you even doing this?  You could just leave – just leave me to my own miserable self instead of torturing me.”

            “Self-pity doesn’t suit you,” Len said flatly, “now, I’m going to do this whether you like it or not.  I guarantee it will hurt a lot more if you tense up.”

            Barry’s expression shifted, scared, and then resigned, and Len saw him take in a deep breath, and then start to try and let go of some of the tension in his shoulders.  After a couple minutes Len brought the leather back to Barry’s mouth.  Barry just stared at him.

            “Don’t look at me like that,” he said, “you screamed last time.  No screaming.  Cops.  Your little identity won’t mean much if they come in here.”

            Barry scowled and opened his mouth, biting down again.

            “You want me to count?” he asked.  Barry only scowled at him.  “To three, I promise this time.”

            There was more angry scowling, and then a shaky, hesitant nod.

            “Alright.  One –”  He adjusted his grip, and felt Barry tense.  “Don’t tense up,” he said, sending him a look, and his shoulder relaxed again. “Alright.  One, two, three.”

            There was a snap and a pop and then Barry’s yell through his teeth.  Len took the leather from his mouth and he was gasping.

            “Done,” Len said, “relax.”

            “Easy for you to say,” Barry muttered, struggling to keep himself from crying.  His face was red and he wanted nothing more than to go crawl into a hole.  Or maybe a bed.  His bed.  With nice warm blankets and hot chocolate and damnit he missed Ibuprofen

            “Try and sleep,” Snart said, and Barry glared at him.  “You really think I’m going to do something to you now?  Listen, Flash, if I wanted you dead or your identity outed, I would have done it by now.”

            Barry’s eyes dropped and he seemed to relax a little more.  Len rolled his eyes.  “I’ll keep an eye out for your friends,” he said, and Barry nodded, and after some more hesitation closed his eyes, his body finally seeming to let go of some of the tension he had been holding.

 


	2. Open Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry has a broken wrist and just wants to be left alone. Leonard helps.

“Scarlet,” Len said, his voice gentle, hand on his shoulder rubbing softly.  “Come on, Scarlet, you need to open your eyes for us.”

            Barry turned his head, fighting against him.  “No,” he said, his voice filled with pain.

            “It’ll only take a second, Barry,” Caitlin said, holding the flashlight.  “you have a concussion.  I need to check your pupil dilation.”

            “Open your eyes, Barry,” Len said.

            Barry whimpered in response.  He was being amazingly uncooperative.

            “Barry, you need to open your eyes, babe.  Otherwise we’re going to pull your eyelids up.”

            Barry tried to bring his arm up, to shield his face, and Cisco caught it.  Len sighed and looked at Caitlin, and then he let go of Barry’s shoulder and moved to put a hand on either side of his head.  Barry started to thrash as soon as he realized what he was doing, but Len only held his head gently in place.

            “Stop!” Barry yelled, panicked and angry and in pain.  “Len – let go, Lenny, please, don’t, _stop_.”  He squeezed his eyes tightly shut as Caitlin reached towards his face.  “ _Let go_.”

            “Barry,” Caitlin said, “I don’t want to hurt you.  I’m giving you one last chance to open your eyes on your own, or I’m lifting your eyelids, no matter how hard you squeeze them shut.”

            Barry let out a frustrated noise, and then finally opened his eyes.  They were blood shot and he winced immediately, closing them again.

            “Barry,” Caitlin said.

            “It hurts,” he whined, breathing harshly.

            “Just open them for a few seconds,” Len said, and Barry whimpered and opened them again.  Caitlin shined a light in his right eye and he closed it again, flinching back.

            “Open for me,” Caitlin said, and he opened them again.

            “If you relax, babe, Caitlin can hold your eyelids open gently, and maybe that would be easier,” Len said.

            “No,” Barry said, but he was starting to cry, whether from the light shining in his eyes or pain, Len didn’t know.

            “Then you need to keep them open for her,” he said, and Barry winced and opened them again.  He kept shutting them and opening again until Caitlin was done looking, and Cisco ran and got a cool cloth to put over his eyes.  He had gotten something sprayed in them, and although nothing that would leave permanent damage, it was painful and light sensitive.

            “Barry,” Len said gently, “we need to take a look at your wrist now.”

            Barry let out a whimper and drew away from him.  The wrist was broken badly and his hand was burnt, and he had it cradled in to his chest.  Caitlin had tried to look at it earlier but he cried out and flinched away if anyone so much as touched it.

            “No,” Barry said weakly.  Caitlin reached for it and he pulled back, shaking.

            “Scarlet,” Len said, running his fingers through Barry’s hair, “this’ll be a lot easier if you just try and relax and let Cait do what she needs to.”

            “It hu-urts,” Barry gasped out, his face contracting.

            “I know, Scarlet,” Len said, “I know it really hurts.  I need you to just keep going a little bit longer, OK?”

            “No, Lenny, no.”

            “Just a bit more, Barry.  Then you can relax, OK?  Cisco will get you some ice as soon as it’s done.”

            “Want ice now,” he whined, his voice fading quietly as he shifted, squirming from pain.

            “In just a bit, Barry, I promise,” Len said.

            “You lie.”

            “Not when I promise.”

            Caitlin started to take his hand again and Barry tensed and pulled back, but Caitlin was firm this time, and got a hold of his arm, and forced it towards her, Barry protesting the whole time.  “No – no, no – wait, _wait_ that _hurts_ , it hurts, stop!”

            “Shh, Scarlet, take a deep breath,” Len said, holding his shoulders down now as he struggled.

            “No – no, Len, no, it hurts.  Let go.  C-cait, stop, p-please.”  Barry stuttered as Caitlin started probing gently at the wrist.

            “You have two breaks,” she said, “wrist and finger.  Do you want to get the wrist over with first?”

            “ _No_ ,” Barry said.

            “I think the wrist would be best first,” Len said.

            “ _Len!_ ”

            He bent down to kiss Barry’s forehead gently, and then reached over to take his other hand.  “You can squeeze down on my hand, OK, Scarlet?  We’re gonna get the worst of it over with first.”

            “No,” Barry said, struggling again, “I don’t want to get the worst over with first – I don’t – it’ll hurt – it already hurts – please, not with the burns – stop!”

            But Caitlin gave Len a look and he leaned down to kiss him one more time before he nodded at Caitlin and there was a sharp crack and then Barry was screaming.

            Caitlin didn’t give him time to react though, she bent his finger back to place too, and he yelled again.  He was crying hard now, shuddering and pale as a piece of paper.

            “Alright, easy, Scarlet, that’s it – it’s all done,” Len said softly.

            Barry whimpered and shook his head, squirming on the bed.  Caitlin started to rub a cooling gel over the burns on his hand, and then she wrapped it up and placed it down on the bed at his side.  Barry kept whimpering and mumbling, eyes closed and squeezing tightly on Len’s hand.

            “Shh, Barry, it’s all over, babe,” Len said, giving his hand a squeeze back.  He ran his other hand over his head, through his short hair.  “Gonna give me gray hair before I’m forty,” he mumbled.  “You need to be more careful.”

            “I – was, careful,” Barry stuttered.

            “Yeah and it was all that care that got you stuck under a collapsed burning building.”

            “Wasn’t stuck,” Barry mumbled.

            “Yeah, OK, Scarlet.”

            “Shut up.”

            Len smiled.  “You want some water?”

            He nodded and Len grabbed a bottle for him, and helped him sit up enough to take a few sips.

            Barry kept squirming though, fidgeting from the pain.  Len ran a hand through Barry’s hair.  “Relax, Scarlet,” he said softly.

            “It hurts,” Barry breathed out, “I can’t – I can’t help it.”

            “I know, Barry.  I know it hurts – just relax your shoulders, OK?  Relax, I know you can.  Try not to move so much.”  Len rubbed his shoulders, and Barry let out a shuddering breath.  It would be a long few hours before he was all healed.

            After a few minutes had gone by Barry cracked his eyes open though.  He looked up at Len, his eyes big.

            “Lenny?”

            Oh, God, Len thought.

            “Yeah, Barry?”

            “Could you get me something?”

            Len sighed.  “What do you want, Scarlet?”

            “Ice cream.”

            Len sighed again.  Yep, he was feeling better.


	3. Needles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes patching up injuries is painful. Sometimes it's agony. After an instance of the latter, Len helps Barry talk things out.

Barry whimpered at the pain, pulling away as Len looked at his shoulder.  He was holding back tears, trying hard not to cry.  The pain in his shoulder was a shrill, white hot mess, and he was breathing shallowly through his mouth.

“It’s going to need some stitches,” Len said gently. 

Barry gritted his teeth and once again resisted the urge to cry.  His stomach had clenched itself into a knot, his knuckles white, one hand in Len’s, the other gripping the table.

“OK,” Caitlin said walking towards them, “the x-rays came out.  No broken bones.  Looks like a bad sprain in the wrist.  But I’m going to have to pop your shoulder back in.”

Barry finally lost the battle.  Tears spilled out of his eyes and down his face as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“ _No_ ,” he said, desperately, despairingly.  There was an icy shot of panic that immediately curled in his stomach at the words.  He knew how much a dislocated shoulder hurt normally.  With the cuts and the torn tendons it was going to be agony.

“I’m sorry, Barry, I’ll get it done quick,” Caitlin said, moving to his side.  Barry flinched away, pushing up closer to Len, who got up and leaned against the side, blocking him from pulling away anymore.

“Oh, God,” Barry said, turning in towards Len, who accommodated him with one hand against his back and the other on the back of his head as Barry moved to fist his hands in Len’s shirt instead.

“It’ll be over real quick,” Len said, placing a kiss to the top of his head.  Barry shuddered against him.

“It hurts so bad,” Barry said, whimpering as Caitlin took his shoulder as gently as possible.

“It’ll feel better after Caitlin pops it back in,” Len said, rubbing his back in soothing circles.

Barry started trembling as Caitlin began to position his arm.  He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed his forehead into Len’s shoulder, letting out a constant, scared whimper in anticipation of the pain.

There was a snap, and then Barry’s scream, and then Len was holding a sobbing mess of Barry, gripping onto him and crying out loudly from the pain.

“Easy, easy, it’s OK,” Len said, continuing to rub his back.  “It’s all over.  It’s all done now.”

“Fuck it hurts,” Barry said, squeezing his eyes shut tighter, his voice raw and shaky.

“It’s alright,” Len said, “it’s all done.  I’ve got you, Scarlet.  It’s OK.”

“Oh, God, Lenny,” Barry said, shaking in his arms.  His shoulder was on fire, a white hot mess of pain that kept shooting up and down his arm, down to his chest, around his neck.  Oh, God, he just wanted it to stop.

“Please, please, please.”  Barry didn’t even realize he was mumbling until Len smoothed a hand over his hair.

“Shhh,” he said, “it’s OK.  It’s all done.  You’re OK.  Just breathe, baby, just breathe, Scarlet, you’re OK.”

Barry whimpered, pushing his forehead into Len’s chest.  He felt like he couldn’t breathe, hyperventilating and stuttering in breath.  The pain was dizzying.  He let out an anguished groan when after a moment it didn’t lesson, his last resolve cracking, the last shred of control he had shattering.

“It won’t stop,” he cried, almost hysterical now, tears running down his face, “it’s supposed to stop, it’s supposed to feel better now.”  He let out a sob.  He didn’t understand, couldn’t understand.  She had popped it back in, it was supposed to feel better now.  It always did – there was always that agonizing second of pain but then it _stopped_.  It _wasn’t stopping_.  “Please, make it stop,” he cried.  It hurt so much.  The pain was blinding.  He couldn’t think.

“Shh, I know it hurts, baby, just take in some deep breaths, Scarlet.  Baby, I need you to concentrate and take in a deep breath for me.”  Barry tried, fighting to get air into his lungs.  “That’s it,” Len said, holding him a little tighter, “that’s real good, Barry.  Keep doing that.  Just focus on breathing, Scarlet, it’ll help with the pain.”

“I need to put in the stitches now, they can’t wait,” Caitlin said.  Her voice was soft and it was mostly directed to Len but Barry still heard and all he could think was _I can’t do this._   He curled in tighter, trying to get smaller, to hide, instinctively trying to get away from the pain.

“Not even a few minutes?” Len asked.  When Caitlin shook her head Len felt his stomach drop.  He looked down, only able to see the top of Barry’s head, his face hidden in against his shirt.  He let out a shaky sigh and kissed the top of Barry’s head once.  “OK,” he said quietly.  He tightened his grip a little bit.  “Sweetheart,” he said, “we have to put in those stitches now.”

Barry made an anguished noise against him, the sound muffled.

“I know, baby,” Len said, running his hand over the back of Barry’s neck, rubbing at the muscle there and on his shoulders, trying to get him to relax, even if it was just the slightest bit.  “But you’ve done in before.  It’s alright.  Shouldn’t need too many.  Ten minutes tops, as long as you stay still for us.”

Barry didn’t say anything, but when Caitlin put the first stitch in all he did was groan loudly and tense up.  The pain in his shoulder from the dislocation finally started to abate to some degree, and he started to calm down.  Len figured if they were able to give him a break in between, even just five minutes, he probably would have been able to gather himself again and would have been alright.  But the wounds were already healing wrong, and Caitlin had to get the stitches in then.

It was awful.  Len watched Barry tense up and curl into a ball beside him.  That was fine.  It’s what he did.  When he got hurt and had to undergo something painful he grabbed onto Len and hid his face and grit his teeth and didn’t come out from the ball he was in until it was over, but he got through it.  But around the seventh or eighth stitch, Barry broke.

“Stop,” he said, and suddenly he was flinging himself up, looking over his shoulder at Caitlin, face covered in tears, eyes desperate.  “Stop, wait!”

Caitlin paused, and for a second the only sound was Barry’s ragged breathing.

“Wait,” he said, gasping, “wait, I can’t.  I just… oh, God.  No more, please.”

Len took a deep breath.  “Scarlet,” he said.  When Barry turned to him he placed a gentle kiss against his lips.  “I know it hurts,” he said, “you’re almost done.”

Barry’s eyes filled up with tears at his words.  “No, Len, no,” he said.

Caitlin gently pressed him forward, so he was leaning against Len’s shoulder, so Len could get a better grip on him.

“No,” Barry said again, his voice half fear now, getting worse, “no, please.”

Caitlin put in the next stitch and Barry screamed.

 

 

Len didn’t know if it was Barry resigning himself to the pain, or if he was just too damned exhausted, but he didn’t fight them.  He whimpered and pleaded but he didn’t try to stop Caitlin or break out of Len’s hold.  It wasn’t like he had never fought them before, when the pain really became overwhelming.  But for whatever reason, he didn’t this time.

When it was done Caitlin gently bandaged it all up, stabilizing his wrist as well.  Barry clung to Len and whimpered, eyes dazed, still so full of pain.  Len stroked his hair and rubbed his back and kept telling him how it was all alright and he was doing a great job.  Barry liked it when he told him he was doing a good job, admitted once that he often felt weak and unable to control himself when he was in that much pain.  The reminder that he was doing good, that he was doing everything he was supposed to helped him to feel less like a petulant child, less like he should be able to deal with the pain and was just being weak and childish.  It made him feel ashamed and embarrassed when he broke down from the pain.

After Caitlin finished up Barry wouldn’t move for a while.  It took him a while to really calm down, to stop crying and shaking.  He was silent while they drove back.  By now, Len knew the routine.  They got back to the apartment and Len walked Barry over to the couch and put a blanket around his shoulders.  Then he went into the kitchen and started boiling water to make soup.  Caitlin had told him before he left that Barry needed to eat, and Len could already tell that was going to be a difficult order to get Barry to follow right now.

He brought a glass of water over while the soup cooked and sat down next to him.

“How you feeling?” he asked.

Barry looked up at him.  His eyes were still a little red from crying.  He looked ahead again for a moment, thinking.  Len waited.

“I don’t feel good,” he said.

Len sighed.  “Yeah, it was a rough one today.”

“Hurt,” Barry said softly.  His eyebrows cinched for just a second.  His voice was almost vindictive, angry and Len frowned and rubbed his back.  Barry hung his head down.  “God, I wish I could have a drink,” he mumbled.

“Caitlin’s working on an anesthetic for you,” Len said.

But to Len’s surprise the words didn’t seem to help, on the contrary Barry’s shoulders tensed.  “So that’ll be another round of tests, then?”

Len frowned, opening his mouth, but Barry was faster.

“Shots, or an IV?”

“I don’t –”

“How many needles?”

“Barry –”

“What will she need for it?  An MRI?  How will she even test that, is she gonna cut into me again or just stab me with needles, or –”

“Barry,” Len said, grabbing his shoulders, “Hey.”  Barry’s eyes welled up with tears and he looked back down, stifling a sudden sob.  The sound wrenched through Len, followed quickly by surprise as Barry pitched forward against him.  When Barry looked up again Len moved his hands up, cupping his face.  “Hey,” he said, wiping away a tear with his thumb.  “What’s going on?”

Barry looked away, or he tried to, but Len kept a gentle hand on his face, and then Barry’s eyes were back up on his.  He took in a shuddering breath, opened his mouth, closed it again.

“I –” he started, stopped, swallowed.  “I don’t want –”  He stopped again.  Len waited, moving his thumb back and forth against his skin.  “I don’t want to get stuck with any more needles,” he said slowly.

“I know they’re not fun,” Len said softly, “you did a really good job with it today.”

“No I didn’t,” Barry said, his voice bitter.

“Yes,” Len said, leaning in to place a gentle kiss against his lips, “you did.”

“I didn’t,” Barry mumbled, “I cried, and broke down, and I would have done anything to make you stop.”

“You were in a lot of pain,” Len said, running his hand up, over his scalp, to stroke his hair a couple times.  “it’s OK.  You held it together a lot longer than I would have.”

Barry snorted.  “That’s not true.”

Len smiled.  “You should ask Lisa.  I’m a terrible patient.”

“I’m pretty sure you have a higher pain tolerance than I do.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Scarlet.”

“I’ve seen you get a bullet taken out, Len,” Barry said.

“Yeah, and I’ve seen you get ten bones set all in a row.”

“You had to put me in restraints that time.”

“Yeah, but not till the fifth one.”

Barry looked down, shook his head.  But when he looked back up he smiled.

“You’re doing so well,” Len said gently, smiling too now.  “No matter how many times you get hurt and how many times you put yourself through that kind of pain, you don’t stop.  You keep going back out anyway, keep going back to save people.”

“I’m not just gonna stop,” Barry mumbled.

“You could,” Len said, “I wouldn’t blame you.”

Barry just gave him a look.

“What?” Len said.  When Barry just glared at him some more he went serious again.  “So what’s up with this needle thing?”

Barry’s face went dark again, and Len almost regretted even bringing it up.  Barry bit his lip.  “Nothing,” he said, “I just… the stitches today…”

“They were rough,” Len said, “you did a great job, Barry.  I know how hard it is for you when it gets bad like that.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Barry mumbled.

“Is this really just the stitches?” Len asked, getting back onto his original question.

Barry looked down.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Len said.

Barry looked up again, slowly this time, and then right back down.  “I don’t wanna do the tests,” he said quietly.

“Why not?” Len said.  “I mean, I know there’ll be some prodding, but it won’t be bad.”

Barry avoided his eyes.  “I just don’t,” he said.

“Barry,” Len said.

Barry ducked his head.  “I… the stitches…”

Len waited.

Barry fiddled with his hands.  “I really just don’t want to go in and have to get poked a bunch of times.”

“That’s fair,” Len said, “but I think this is something you really do need to do.”

“Yeah, no, I know,” Barry said, “I wasn’t… I’m not trying to get out of it, I just… I just don’t want to.”

“OK,” Len said, “it’ll be OK.  It won’t be that bad, just a few shots.  And if it works then you won’t have to go through anything like this ever again.”

“Yeah,” Barry said, his throat rough, “I just… don’t wanna get poked at right now.”

“It doesn’t have to be right now,” Len said, “we can go later, wait a week or two if that’s what you need.”

“Yeah,” Barry said, “maybe.”

“It’s going to be OK,” Len said.

Barry fiddled with his hands some more.  “I… I don’t like waiting,” he said quickly, all at once.

“Waiting?” Len said.

 “Tha-that’s why I don’t want to do the tests.”

“I don’t understand,” Len said, “what do you mean, Barry, the waiting, is –”

“Knowing it’s coming,” Barry said, not meeting his eyes.  “When I get hurt, it’s – it’s all so fast.  I don’t have time to think about it, to worry… it just happens.  But this… I’ll think about it the whole day, and I’ll work myself up, and I’ll make myself anxious worrying about it and I know it’s not much, I know I do worse all the time, but this – I just – I just know it’s coming and there’s nothing I can do, and it makes me all – tense, and just, I don’t – I don’t know, I can’t handle it when I have to think about it, it’s easy when it’s right then, when I just – when it just has to happen, but if I – I don’t – I –”

“Hey, it’s OK,” Len said, running his fingers through Barry’s hair again as Barry’s eyes dropped down.  “That’s OK.  That makes sense, Barry.  Maybe we can get them to do it early in the morning, so you don’t have to think about it all day, huh?  We can do something fun the night before, to distract you.”

Barry’s chest tightened up, his throat feeling like it was constricting.  “Yeah, that… that might help.”  Just thinking about it now was making him nervous, especially after those stitches.

“Would it be better if we didn’t tell you when?” Len asked, all seriousness, “we could just pick a day.  I could not tell you until we were already in the car and on our way.”

“No,” Barry said fast, “no, I’d just – I’d just worry more, about if it was today or not or the next or, or whatever.”

“Hm,” he said, “would you rather do it sooner than later then?  We could go in a couple days – get it over with.”

“No,” Barry said again, a cringe to his voice now.  “I don’t – I can’t do it now, not… not right after the stitches, that… I still don’t feel good from that.”

“OK,” Len said.  He noticed the way Barry was already breathing a little faster, just talking about it.  “How about we put this conversation on hold for a couple days, then?”

Barry looked up at that, a question in his eyes.

“You’re upset,” Len said softly.  “Let’s give you a couple days to relax, and then we’ll figure out the best way to do the testing.  You might feel better then anyway.” 

In all honesty, this burst of nervousness surprised Len, and he was wondering how much of it was just left over nerves from the ordeal he had to go through that day.  Barry had never seemed so particularly bad with shots and needles before.

“Yeah, OK,” Barry said.

“We’ll figure it out,” Len said.

Barry nodded, looking exhausted and Len sighed.  “How about you eat a little soup for me, and then we take a nap.”

Barry groaned.  “I’m not hungry.”

“I know you’re not,” Len said, already moving to get up to get the soup he had been making.  “But you’re going to eat anyway.”

 “I don’t want anything to eat.”

“I didn’t ask if you wanted it,” Len said, “I said you were eating it.”

Barry glared at him and Len smirked before leaning down and placing a kiss to the top of his head.


	4. Hospital - Part 1

Barry’s leg was on fire, his head was pounding, and he was focusing almost all of his conscious effort into not vibrating or jumping off the bed.

            “I – it’s the monitors – I was struck by lightning, I need to go to Star Labs,” he said, for what felt like the millionth time. 

            “Just relax honey, you’re going to be fine.”

            Barry gritted his teeth.  There were tears of frustration in his eyes, his right hand clenched, his left unmoving at his side.  The fingers were broken.  He closed his eyes, willing himself not to cry.  His fingers were going to heal in the wrong position, and Caitlin would have to re-break them. 

            He flinched as there was another pinch at his arm.

            “It doesn’t work,” he said, “I – I can’t have anesthetics.  You have to call Star Labs.”

            “Star Labs is not a medical facility,” the man moving around him said, “you’re at Central City Hospital, son.  There’s no record of allergies on your file.”

            “The damn file is wrong,” Barry said, his patience breaking.  “I was in a coma, I – they transferred me to Star Labs.  Please, just – please, I need to get there.”

            “Abrasion to the back of the head – probably concussed,” the nurse spoke softly on his other side, to the – the nurse? Doctor?  He didn’t know, didn’t care.  The man – she spoke to the man.

            “I’m not concussed,” Barry said, realizing afterwards that he probably was.  He was having trouble thinking straight but he couldn’t tell if that was pain or trauma.

            “The doctor will see you shortly, dear, he’ll be able to tell for sure, just try to calm down now.”

            “We’re going to start putting some pain medication through the IV for you,” the man said.

            “It won’t work,” Barry said.

            “Can you give us a rating one to ten on how the pain is, dear?  Ten being the worst?”

            “Eight,” he said.  His chest was on fire and his fingers were broken and he was pretty sure his leg was still bleeding heavily.  They had wrapped bandages around it in the ambulance.  He didn’t want to think about the possibility of them trying to put in stitches.

            “You should start feeling the medication kick in,” the man said.

            Barry felt nothing.  His metabolism was eating right through it.

            “Please,” he said again, “I need to go to Star Labs.  This doesn’t work on me.  They know my medical history there, please, just – just call, they’ll tell you – Caitlin Snow – Dr. Caitlin Snow, please.”

            “Monitor’s still not picking up his heartrate,” the woman said.

            “Damn machine – Carson’s coming in with another one.  Start cataloguing injuries.  Doc Rodgers is on his way.”

            “Can you tell me what hurts, honey?” the woman asked him.  Barry’s vision swam.  Everything, God, everything.  “Besides your leg and head, sweetheart?”

            “Just that,” he said.  He didn’t want them touching anything else, didn’t want them doing anything that would just wind up with him in more pain.

            “What about your hand?” the man said.

            Barry moved it in to his side instinctively.  The woman moved over.  She reached for his hand and he flinched back.

            “Could I just see your hand there?”

            “No,” Barry said before he could stop himself.

            “I won’t hurt you, honey, I just need to look at it.”

            “No,” Barry said.

            “Sweetheart, I –”

            “It’s broken,” he snapped.  “My fingers are broken, at least three of them, they’re already he- they – can you just _please_ call Star Labs?”

            “Mark him down for X-rays after he sees the Doc,” the man said, not looking up.  “Can you give me another one to ten scale on the pain?”

            “Eight,” Barry said, “it’s still eight.  It’s not doing anything.  I told you, they don’t – the anesthetics – they don’t work on me.”

            “Do you have a history of drug abuse, son –”

            “No,” Barry said, “I was in a coma.  I got struck by lightning.  That’s why your fucking machine isn’t picking up my heartrate, it’s the same fucking thing – you have to take me to Star Labs, they have the equipment –”

            “He’s not responding to the sedative –”

            “Of course I’m not fucking _responding_ , I told you –”

            “Where’s the Doc, I need to get an anesthesiologist in here.”

            “Honey, if you could just try to calm down –”

            Barry opened his mouth just as another man walked in.  He looked up.  “Mr. Allen?”

            The man standing next to him looked over, agitated.  “He’s not responding to the pain meds or the sedatives – I gave him the highest dose, it’s not doing a damn thing.”

            “Hmm,” the doctor – Barry assumed he was a doctor – said, going over.  “Do you have a history of negative reaction to –”

            “They don’t work on me,” Barry said, “I –”  He took a deep breath, tried to calm down enough to speak.  “I need to be taken to Star Labs,” he said, as calmly as he could, “they have my medical records.  They’ve been working with me for over a year.  I was in a coma.”

            “Well, let’s just see what the problem is,” the doctor said, and Barry wanted to scream.

            “Contusions on his head, possible concussion, probably broken bones in his hand, and bruised or fractured ribs – and he has a nasty cut on his leg.”

            “Quite a list, Mr. Allen.  And what did you do to get yourself so banged up?”

            “I was pushed off a balcony,” he said flatly.  The doctor looked up sharply.  “I’m a forensic scientist,” he added, “there was a guy still hanging around the crime scene.”

            “Well, let’s see if we can’t start getting you fixed up.”

            “You can’t,” Barry said, frustration mounting again.  “I need to go to –”

            “Just open your eyes wide for me,” the doctor said, shining a light in them.  Barry blinked away, and then the man was unwrapping the bandages on his leg.  The prodding hurt and Barry flinched away.

            “You have that anesthesiologist coming up yet?” he asked the man.

            “He’s on his way,” he said.

            “How’s the pain Mr. Allen?”

            “It hurts,” Barry said.  “It hurts like hell and your drugs aren’t doing a damn thing.”

            “We have someone coming up to work with you on that.”

            “It won’t do anything,” he said, “they don’t work on me.  Call my doctor.  She’ll tell you.  Please, I even have the number, if you would just –”

            “He’ll need to have stitches put in, I’ll take care of it as soon as the anesthesiologist gets here.  Can I see your hand, Mr. Allen?”

            Barry drew back.  A sharp spot of fear shot up his spine.  His hand hurt the most out of everything right now, and he did not want the doctor touching it.

            “He’s a bit protective of the hand,” the woman said.  Barry shot a glare at her, but didn’t have time to say anything before the doctor’s fingers were curling around his wrist.

            “Ah – agh!” Barry shouted, trying to pull back as the doctor’s fingers brushed over his.  Tears sprung to his eyes.  “Stop,” he said.

            “Definite breaks in the first three digits,” he said, and then to Barry, “easy, there.  I have to have a look at it now.”

            Barry wanted to yell, to say that no, he didn’t need to, and that he had to get to Star Labs, he really did, but then the doctor was feeling around his palm and all Barry could get out was a sudden yelp and, “Stop, please, that hurts.”

            “You have him on the highest dose?” the doctor said to the other man again.

            “Yes,” he said, “kid’s a twig and he’s reacting like he’s not on anything at all.  He should be knocked out with what he’s got in him right now.”

            “It doesn’t work on me,” Barry yelled.  “I need to go to Star Labs.”

            “Hmm,” the doctor said, and there was a sharp pain in Barry’s hand again and he cried out.

            “Mr. Allen,” the doctor said, and he wouldn’t let go of his damn hand.  “Are you sure you sustained these injuries today?  The bone looks like this is a much older injury.”

            Oh, God, it was already healing.  He shut his eyes.  “Yes,” he said.

            He finally let go of his hand then, and Barry let out a whimper of relief.  He pulled it back in against his body, but when he looked up the doctor was holding a syringe.

            “I’m going to give you a local anesthetic in your leg now,” he said.

            Barry closed his eyes, but not before he saw the needle.  Oh, God, he wished he hadn’t seen it at all, almost wished the doctor hadn’t even said anything.  He held his breath, and then bit down on a cry as he felt the needle pierce his skin.  A sharp, icy pain spread from it and then disappeared again just as quick.  He assumed that was the anesthetic.  He let out a breath that it was over just as a sharp pain went through his leg again.

            He jerked, crying out again, and the doctor looked up at him, a look of puzzlement on his face.

            “You shouldn’t be able to feel that,” he said, and then there was another spark of pain, but much less this time as the doctor pressed gently at the wound instead.  Barry groaned in pain, turning his head to the side, squeezing his eyes shut.  His breath came rasping in and out, and he got a minute to breathe and then there was another, worse pain in his leg again.

            Barry jolted, shouting again, and there was a hand on his knee, pressing down, and oh, fuck, that hurt too.  Tears stung his eyes.  He choked on a dry sob.  Oh, God, just let him pass out.  He didn’t care anymore.  They wouldn’t listen to him and he hurt and they wouldn’t stop.  There was another stabbing pain in his leg and a tear went down his face.  He curled to his side, trying to hide from it, get away from the pain.  He wanted it to stop, just wanted it to stop, more than anything.

            “Sir, you can’t go in –”  There was shouting and then a sudden bang and Barry looked up and when his eyes focused he couldn’t suppress a sob, but of relief this time.

            “Barry –”

            “Excuse me sir,” the doctor said, “you can’t be in here, this is a –”

            “Like hell I can’t,” Len said, and he pushed right past him. 

            And then there was a hand against his face and Barry wanted nothing more than to fling his arms around him, but he was too weak and in too much pain for that so he just locked eyes with Len, his mouth moving but the sound choked back in his throat.

            “It’s OK,” Len said, “we’re going to get you out of here.  It’s OK now.  You’re OK.”

            “Excuse me, sir, but –”

            Barry saw the doctor move towards Len, and Len’s form stiffened, his face hardened in anger, just about to turn, but then Barry saw Caitlin for the first time, Cisco right behind, and she got to him first.

            “Hello,” Caitlin said, sticking out a hand before the doctor could say anything more, “I’m Dr. Caitlin Snow, I’m Barry’s personal physician.  We have a car waiting outside and we will be taking over the care of Barry Allen now.  Thank you for your services, but we have a standing release from Mr. Allen and his closest relative to take over all services and care for him.

            While she was talking Cisco was moving around the bewildered looking nurse, and started disconnecting him from all the machines they had hooked up.

            “Hey, excuse me, you can’t just –”

            “That’s my assistant, Cisco Ramon, now if you wouldn’t mind, we’ll take it from here.”

            “I’m sorry, I’m going to need to see the paperwork –”

            “I’ll fax it over a soon as we get back to Star Labs,” she said.

            “I’m afraid that’s not how it works, I need to see –”

            Len whirled on him.  “We are taking him now, whether you like it or not.  Now, whether you leave with all your bones in the same place they are now –”

            “Yes, thank you Len,” Caitlin said, sending him a sharp look.  He mumbled something more and then settled back next to Barry, running a hand through his hair.

            “Please,” Barry said, and Len kissed his forehead.

            “It’s OK,” he said, as Barry continued to mumble, the pain taking its toll.

            “M’ hand,” Barry said, “my hand – Lenny, Lenny it’s – Lenny, please, my ha- m’ hand –”

            His voice trembled and Len stroked his hair gently.  “Shh,” he said, “it’s OK.  Caitlin will take care of it, it’s alright now.  It’s OK.  I’ve got you.”

            “Call security,” the doctor said, but Barry didn’t even register it.  Cisco had finished getting all the monitors off him and was now wheeling the whole bed out, Len looking threateningly at anyone who tried to stop him.  The doctor pursed his lip, just watching.

            And they left like that.  Caitlin walking in front of them, head up high, eyes stone cold and staring straight ahead, Cisco wheeling Barry in the bed out of the hospital, and Len at his side, one hand on Barry’s head, the other clenched to a fist, staring down anyone who so much as glanced at them.

            “Len,” Barry said weakly.  He whimpered and closed his eyes, the light too bright.  Len’s hand in his hair was comforting, but he wanted his boyfriend’s arms around him now and he really wanted the dizzying movement to stop.  He turned his head to the side, trying to stop the light from the ceiling from being too blinding.

            “I know, baby,” Len said, “we’re getting you out of here.  Almost there.”

            Barry tried to relax, tried to close his eyes and just breathe through the pain, knowing that Len and Caitlin were there and that they’d take care of him, he didn’t have to argue or yell at any doctors anymore.  But the pain was a constant, burning pressure and Barry couldn’t ignore it.

            “Len,” Barry said, “Lenny.”  There was a strain to his voice.

            “I’m right here, Scarlet,” Len said, swiping a thumb over his forehead. 

            “’s a eight,” Barry said, letting out a short gasp when the gurney went over a bump as they went through a doorway.  He was referring to the one through ten scale, which Caitlin often used as well as the doctors in the hospital. 

            “OK, Scarlet,” Len said, “we’ll fix you up, it’ll stop hurting soon.”

            But Barry knew he was lying, or at least exaggerating.  He knew Caitlin still had to stitch up his leg and set the bones in his hand – if she didn’t have to re-break them too.  It was going to keep hurting, and it was only going to get worse once Caitlin started looking at him.  The realization made him whimper again, his hands start trembling.

            “Gonna load you into the van now,” Cisco said, an apology in his voice.

            Barry opened his eyes.  He hadn’t even realized that they were outside, and his head turned to look at Cisco, a cringe on his face.

            “I know man, we’ll go slow.”

            They painstakingly got Barry loaded into the bed in the back of the van.  By the time it was finished Barry had a death grip on Len’s hand and he was sweating and trembling.

            “It’s alright.  Just relax,” Len said, but Barry was already whimpering.

            “Hate the van,” he said, twisting, trying to get comfortable, relieve the pressure on his injuries. 

            “It’s a short drive,” Len said.

            “Don’t… don’t…” he stuttered and seemed to lose his train of thought.  Len stroked through his hair.

            “It’s OK,” he said, “you just relax, Scarlet.  It’s OK.”

            “Hurts, Len… Lenny… Lenny, please.”

            “I know, Barry.  I know it hurts.  You’re doing great.  Just relax.  Caitlin’s going to take care of you.”

            “No,” he said, because he knew he needed stitches and his hand – God, his _hand_ – it hurt so bad.

            “Just relax.  It’s OK,” Len said, and Barry felt the van hum to life, and then there was a jolt that had him crying out, a “sorry” called from the front where Cisco was at the wheel.

            “Alright,” Caitlin said, and Barry opened his eyes to see her coming towards him.  He closed them again.

            “Barry,” Caitlin said gently.  “Where are you hurt?  Can you tell me?”

            Barry whimpered in response.  He was rapidly feeling more and more tired, getting weaker and weaker.  He tried to turn away from her, back towards Len.

            “Barry,” Caitlin said, a little harder this time, “I know you’re tired.  Just tell me where you’re hurt, OK?  I need to know.  You hit your head, it looks like, and I know you got cut on your leg…”

            Barry groaned when Len nudged him, waiting for a response.

            “Hand,” he mumbled.  Everything hurt.  He just wanted it to stop, and on top of it all there were bumps every few seconds from the road and Barry hated, hated, hated the van right then.

            “Anything else?” she asked, “Your ribs?  Are you having trouble breathing?”

            “A… a little…” Barry said, mumbling, twitching and moving around more now from the pain.

            “Try and stay still, Scarlet,” Len said.

            Barry felt fingers on his hand, and he flinched.  Caitlin was gentle though, and Len held his other hand, and then Caitlin said she was going to set the bones.

            Barry whimpered and curled over on his side, towards Len.

            “It’s alright,” Len said, “done in a minute.  You’re OK.”  He gently moved his hand to the back of Barry’s head, and moved in close, until Barry was whimpering, nuzzling his head against Len’s side.  “You ready, Scarlet?  We’ll get it done fast.”

            Barry whimpered again and then there was a popping noise and he screamed, going rigid.  Caitlin did something else and by the time she finished Barry was writhing, sobbing from the pain.

            “It hurts, it really hurts, Len, please, it hurts, it _hu-urts_ ,” Barry cried, shaking on the bed.

            “Shh, I know,” Len said, placing a gentle kiss to his forehead, “I know, sweetheart, I know.  It’s all done now.  It’s OK.”  His voice was soft, his face pained.  It always made him sick to his stomach to hear Barry when he was like this, but he kept his voice soft, trying to keep Barry as calm as possible.

            “Ten,” Barry spat out, “Tenten _ten_ , please, make it stop.”

            “Shh,” Len said, “it stopped.  It’s OK.  It’s OK, Scarlet, Caitlin’s done with that now.”

            Barry just cried, loud, harsh sounds.  They reached Star Labs shortly afterwards, and Barry was still coming down from the pain.

            “Wait,” he said, when Cisco came around to the back of the van, and Caitlin was getting prepared to move him out.  They stopped, looked expectantly at him, but Barry just kept breathing heavily, eyes darting around.

            Len gently clasped his left hand over Barry’s, where he was already gripping with his right.  “We’re gonna move you into Star, Scarlet.  We can start working to make you feel better once we get in there.”

            Barry’s breathing picked up, and he shook his head.  “Two minutes,” he said.  His body ached, pain lacing up and down his sides, his ribs hurting, every breath painful.  The van had just stopped, had just, mercifully, come to a stop.  He didn’t want to be moved again.

            “We’re gonna have to move you now,” Len said firmly, giving his hand a squeeze.

            Barry whimpered, shaking his head as Len moved to help Caitlin and Cisco get him down and start wheeling him into the building.  Len had to let go of his hand and Barry couldn’t hold back a sob, wanting more than anything for them to stop and for Len to hold him, for the pain to stop.  By the time they reached the cortex and got him on one of the beds he was covered in sweat, trembling from the pain.

            “All done,” Len said, “we’re here.  You did great, Scarlet.  We’re here.  No more moving.”

            Barry whimpered again, pain lacing up and down his body.  He ached.  Len took his hand again and Barry tried to squeeze down but everything hurt and he was so tired, felt like he couldn’t move.  Everything was hazy, and he just felt weak. 


	5. Hospital - Part 2

“Barry,” Caitlin said gently.  She slid her hand over his shoulder, a comforting gesture that had dread circling in Barry’s stomach.  Nothing good ever came with that.  “I’m going to put in some stitches now.”

            Barry just closed his eyes.  He knew from experience that the sooner he got it done the sooner it would stop hurting. 

            He felt hands on his leg then, and Len cupped the side of his face.  Barry clenched his teeth and curled in towards Len.  The first stab was sharp and white hot and Barry jerked back, a yelp coming out of his mouth.  Hands clamped down over his leg and he whimpered.  He hated being held down.

            “Easy, Scarlet,” Len said, and he was stroking the side of his face now, “easy.  Everything’s alright.  You’re OK.”

            Barry panted, the air coming in gasping, hurting his chest as he tried to breathe.  The next few pokes were the same sharp, acute, pain, but after that they merged into each other, becoming one large burning stripe over his leg, rather than individual pokes from the needle.  Barry’s forehead was covered in sweat, and he shivered, cold all over.

            “That’s all done,” Caitlin said, after she finished, but Barry barely noticed.  “Barry,” Caitlin said softly, and suddenly her voice was much closer.  Barry opened his eyes to see her leaning over him.  “I’m going to take a look at your head now.”

            Barry just closed his eyes again.  He felt her fingers come down against the side of his head, where the cut was.  He flinched, but he could only pull away so far until he came up against Len and the side of the bed.  He shuddered, wincing as Caitlin wiped at the side of his head, getting rid of the blood.  She dabbed at it some more, something sticky that stung, but the pain of it was dulled by the more pressing aches and burning hurt over his body.  She taped a bandage in place when she was done.

            “Barry,” she said, “I need to check your ribs now.”

            Barry didn’t respond, but Len moved a little away, and he was confused, and then Caitlin was pressing gently on his side so he was forced to lie flat on his back.  He blinked up at her.

            “Can you cough for me?” she asked, hands gentle over his side.

            Barry tried, and pain laced up his chest.  He shook his head, a wince already on his face, tensing as he waited for Caitlin to argue, to try to get him to do it again.  But she just nodded.

            “OK, I’m going to feel around a little.”

            A minute later and he was writhing, whimpering and pulling his hand out of Len’s just to push her away, get her to stop pressing on his chest, causing pain to lace up his sides, his breath to hitch in painful gasps.

            “Hey, it’s alright.  Cait’s almost done,” Len said, and Barry found his hand captured, being pulled back.  He squirmed, tears in his eyes, shaking his head desperately.  Len brushed back his hair, wiping away sweat.  “Can you give me a one to ten on the pain, Scarlet?”

            “N-nine,” Barry said.  He whimpered again as Caitlin pressed on a particularly tender spot.  “Lenny, it hurts,” Barry burst, with a new bout of squirming, renewed energy as he tried to tug his hand away to make them stop.  The tears ran down his cheeks, and he let out a harsh gasp.

            “I know,” Len said, his voice quiet, gentle, as he held onto Barry’s hand with his right one and wiped away the tears with his left.  “You’re doing so well.  It’s almost over.”

            Caitlin finished, and Barry got a short reprieve for a few minutes.  He breathed shallowly, every breath accompanied by a searing pain in his chest.  His leg still felt like it was on fire, and his head was pounding, but he was just so glad Caitlin wasn’t touching him any longer.  When she came back, and suddenly there was a touch to his hand, his bad hand, he cried out.

            “Shh, Scarlet, this is the last one,” Len said, grabbing his good hand again before he could try to push Caitlin away.

            “No,” Barry said, trying to pull away, panic lighting up his eyes for a second.  “Y-you already – already s-set them.”

            “I just need to set the splint,” Caitlin said, “it’ll only take me a minute, and then you can rest for a while.”

            Barry whimpered, yelping again when Caitlin dabbed a wet cloth over his hand.  She was being gentle, but Barry kept trying to move, and his fingers were bloody and scraped as well as broken, making them tender and painful.  She was done quickly though, fitting the broken fingers into splints so that they would heal right.

            “OK, Barry, I’m all done,” Caitlin said.  She gently put his hand down against the bed.

            “You’re all done, Scarlet,” Len said, and he reached over to stroke Barry’s hair.  Barry didn’t say anything, just lost himself in that sensation, clinging to it against the pain, until he fell asleep.

 

 

 

            He wakes up too soon, only about a half hour later.  It’s odd, and it has Caitlin frowning.  Usually he sleeps through the worst of the healing process, his body shutting down in order to heal him at the speed that it does.

            Instead, this time he woke up and his eyes blinked in confusion.  Len was reading a book to his side, sitting in a chair.  He knew how much Barry hated waking up alone, how disoriented he usually was, sometimes gasping, panicked, other times slow and sluggish, confused.  But he hadn’t expected him to wake up for a few more hours at least.  As it was, he didn’t even notice at first, just reading, until he heard him.

            “L-len,” Barry said.  There was a note of fear there, confused.  “Len,” Barry said again, and this time it came out pained.

            “Hey, Scarlet,” Len said, eyes snapping up as soon as he heard him, putting the book down and pushing his chair closer to take Barry’s hand.

            Barry looked around, his face pale.  His bottom lip quivered.  “H-hurts.”

            “It’s only been about thirty minutes, Scarlet,” Len said, running a hand through his hair.  “You haven’t been asleep long.  You should try and get some more rest.”

            Barry nodded, but Len could already see more sweat forming on his forehead.  His hands were starting to tremble.

            “Close your eyes, Red,” Len said, and Barry did. 

            But pained gasps and moans kept slipping through his teeth every few minutes, accompanied by restless squirming.

            Len took to running his fingers through Barry’s hair, trying to calm him.  “Just try to stay still, Scarlet,” he said, “you’ll fall asleep faster.”  But Barry didn’t fall asleep, and the longer he stayed awake, the more distressed he became.

            “Lenny, it hurts,” he finally broke, looking up, a miserable expression on his face, tears in his eyes.  “M-my chest – I can’t – can’t breathe, an-and my leg –”  He squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a whimper.  “It _burns_.”

            “I’ll see if Caitlin can get you some oxygen,” Len said, because there was nothing else he could do.  Barry burned through painkillers too fast for them to take effect.

            “I’m so – so tired,” Barry said as Caitlin fit him with a nasal cannula.  They all knew that it wasn’t really a solution, that the pain was the bigger issue here, but it would make Barry feel better to have it and hopefully relieve the feeling of difficulty breathing a little bit.

            “I know, Scarlet, just try to relax.

            But now Barry was giving him that look.  And Len closed his eyes.  Just for a second, just enough to breathe.  He was still looking up at him when he opened them.  It was the same look, the one that was begging Len to do something, to make them stop, to help him, but there wasn’t anything that Len could do.  It was the look he usually gave him when he was at the absolute end of his rope, the last ditch, you have to make it stop.  But Caitlin was done, and there wasn’t anything Len could stop.

            “You’re alright,” he said, smoothing his other hand over Barry’s, rubbing circles over his wrist, “It’s almost over.  You’re just healing now.”

            Barry whimpered.

            “Pain?” Len asked.

            “Nine.”

            Len winced.  “It’ll go down soon,” he said, “you’re healing now.  It’ll start feeling better.”

            “Hurts while it’s healing.”

            Len frowned, and Barry took in a stuttering breath, squeezing his eyes shut.

            “It – it burns – it’s this – this itchy, awful p-pain, and I can – I feel it – healing.”

            “I’m sorry, Scarlet,” Len said, “it’ll be better soon, I promise.”

            Caitlin came back a moment later, a tablet in her hand, frowning.  “How are you doing, Barry?” she asked.

            “Bad,” he said, looking at her anxiously, and Len couldn’t tell if he was anxious because he was worried she would need to do something else or if he was hoping she might be able to make it better.

            Caitlin’s frown deepened.  “Usually your body shuts down almost all non-essential functions when you’re injured badly, to speed up the healing process even more, but it’s not doing that right now.  Besides you being awake, your metabolism, blood flow, heartrate – everything is still at normal levels.”

            “Is there anything you can do to help him sleep?” Len asked.  Barry turned to Caitlin as well, his eyes wide.

            “No,” she said, “there aren’t any drugs that he won’t just burn right through.  I’m going to try increasing the sugar in the IV.  Have you eaten enough today?”

            Barry nodded, looking miserable.  “Please, Caitlin,” he said, voice thin and desperate, “it hurts so much.  I can’t do this for another hour.  Please, there has to be something.”

            “You’ll probably start feeling better before an hour has passed,” Caitlin said, smiling sympathetically just to hide the grimace that wanted to break out on her face.

            Barry shook his head, face screwing up.  “Even if it’s a half an hour, Caitlin, I – it’s – it’s bad, Cait, please.”

            “There’s nothing I can do, Barry, I’m sorry,” she said.

            Tears welled up in his eyes, and his trembling increased.  “There has to be s-something,” he said, “please, Cait.  Please, you have to have something, please just let me try it.  If you give me enough – if you just – a continuous stream of morphine, just – just all of it – please.”

            Caitlin smoothed a hand over his forehead.  “I can’t do that, Barry,” she said, “I don’t have enough morphine here for it to last for more then a few minutes for you, and giving you enough to do anything, all at once like that, could cause serious side effects that your body can’t handle right now.”

            “Please,” he said, and his voice cracked.  A tear ran down the side of his face.  He was looking up at Caitlin with the worst look, wretched, miserable.  “Please, let me try it, even – even a few minutes to – to – please, Cait, I just want it to _stop_.”  And suddenly he was sobbing.  Caitlin pulled her hand back and he let go of Len’s hand just to grab it, begging for her to let him try the morphine.  Begging her for even those few minutes of relief, anything to make the pain stop, even for just a little bit.

            “Barry,” Len said, his voice soft, “Barry, come here.”  He took Barry’s hand away from Caitlin’s wrist and drew him in, and Barry gave in, and curled into his side, sobbing harshly the whole time.  “Shh,” Len said, “it’s alright.  It’ll be OK.”  Barry kept crying and Len stroked his hair, murmuring the whole time.  “It’ll get better soon.  You’ll feel better soon, it’s OK.”

            When Barry had stopped crying he was still shaking in Len’s arms, and then he slowly maneuvered himself back onto the bed, exhausted, wanting to stay in Len’s arms but the position was putting a strain on his chest.  Crying made the pain worse, but he hadn’t been able to help it.

            Caitlin took another blood sample.  Barry hardly noticed.  Len tried reading to him, thought maybe it would help him to sleep, but Barry couldn’t concentrate on the story anyway.  Caitlin came back shortly.

            “Your blood oxygen level’s down – you’re not healing as fast as you usually do because you’re not getting enough oxygen to support your accelerated healing.  I need a chest x-ray.

            Barry just wanted to be left alone, but he had to lie still for the x-rays.  When it was done Caitlin put them up on a screen.  She frowned.

            “What is it?” Len asked.

            But Caitlin was already next to Barry with a stethoscope.  “Can you take a deep breath for me, Barry?”

            He inhaled, and then Caitlin had him repeat it a few times.

            “I’m going to give you some more oxygen,” Caitlin said, and then she replaced the nasal cannula with an oxygen mask.  “I’m going to feel around one of your ribs.”

            Barry’s face contracted and he jolted up a little, shaking his head.  “No,” he said, his voice muffled by the mask.  He looked over at Len.  “No,” he said again, hands up, and Len was catching them once again.

            “It’ll only take me a minute this time, Barry, OK?  I’ll be really gentle.”

            Barry twisted, whimpering as Caitlin pressed against his side.  She looked up at the x-ray and then back down, and Barry squirmed away.  She finished quickly though, and then Len was letting go of his hands and Barry was gasping, trembling.

            “It’s OK,” Len said, “it’s all done.”

            “Part of your lung is collapsed,” Caitlin said.

            Barry’s eyes widened, then a cringe took over his features.  “Do you have to drain it?”

            Caitlin hesitated.  Barry shut his eyes, tears burning there again.  He knew how much that would hurt.

            Caitlin let out a long breath.  “It’s up to you.”

            Barry’s eyes snapped open again.  He frowned at her, confused.

            “It’s healing,” she said, “It’s just a small part of your lung.  As long as I keep giving you oxygen, it will heal on its own.  But your chest is going to keep feeling uncomfortable while it does heal, and the rest of your body is going to continue healing slower than normal because you don’t have as much oxygen as you usually get.  I can drain it for you, but the procedure will be painful.  You’ll heal faster though once it’s over.”

            Barry cringed.  He wanted desperately to go back to healing normally, but the idea of going through another painful procedure right then was horrifying.

            “What do you wanna do, Scarlet?” Len asked.

            Barry hesitated.  “I wanna stay like this,” he said, cringing.  He looked up at Caitlin, and then Len, waiting for them to try and talk him out of it.

            “OK,” Caitlin said, and Barry looked back at her.  She smoothed a hand over his shoulder.  “That’s OK, Barry.  It’s really alright either way.”

            “It hurts so much already,” he said, “I just… I don’t think I can do anymore.”

            But Caitlin was nodding.  “That’s alright, Barry.  It’s your choice.  If you change your mind, let me know, but its healing fine.  You should start feeling better soon, although you are going to have to stay here a little longer than usual just so I can keep monitoring it.”

            “OK,” Barry said softly, biting down on his bottom lip.  The thought of anything involving more acute pain was terrifying, but he couldn’t help feeling like he should just get it over with so he could heal.  But he didn’t want to.  He really, really didn’t want to.  He knew if this was any other time he’d prefer to just get it over with, but he just couldn’t do it right then, not after everything else.

            “Hey,” Len said, and Barry looked up.  Len gave him a tired smile.  “How’s the pain?”

            “Eight,” Barry answered.  It was a little better, or maybe he just got more distracted from it.  It was still bad, still gut-wrenchingly bad.

            “Well, that’s the right direction at least,” Len said, another tired smile on his face.

            “I don’t wanna get the air taken out,” he said softly, cringing.

            “You don’t have to,” Len said, “it’s healing.”

            “It’s just,” he said, swallowing, “you – to do it – you have to – there’s a needle, and you stick it into the chest, and pull the air out around the collapsed lung, and – it hurts.  A lot.  I… I had something similar done before with a meta, and – I – I know what it feels like…”

            “You don’t have to get the air taken out, Barry,” Len said.

            “It would be faster,” he said quietly.

            “Do you want to have the air taken out?” Len asked.

            Barry trembled, paused, and when he looked up there were tears in his eyes and he shook his head fast.

            “Barr,” Len said, reaching out to touch his face, “you don’t have to.  It’s healing.  You don’t need it done.”  Len sighed, but he still smiled at Barry.  “Stop it,” he said, “I know what you’re doing.  You’re beating yourself up over this.  There’s no correct answer, Barry – this isn’t a test – you can do whatever you’re more comfortable with and if that’s not having the procedure done, then that’s fine.”

            Barry nodded, but then slowly started to relax.  “Thanks,” he said softly.

            Len sighed.  “Someone has to keep the hero complex at bay.”

            Barry shot a glare at him and Len laughed.  He ran a hand through Barry’s hair.

            “You’re doing great,” Len said, “I’m sorry about the hospital.  We got there as fast as we could.”

            Barry grimaced.  “I couldn’t get away.  Singh, the officers – everyone saw it – I couldn’t just pretend I was fine.  I had to get in the ambulance when it came.”

            “That sucks,” Len said, “Did they poke you too much before we got there?”

            Barry cringed.  “Yeah – they couldn’t figure out what was wrong with the monitors and when I didn’t respond to the anesthetic…”

            Len cringed.  “Ouch,” he said, “I’ll talk to Caitlin – see if we can get something on file at the hospital there – something more definitive so they don’t do that again.”

            “That would be nice,” Barry said.

            “We need to figure out something to do for the pain,” Len said seriously.

            Barry grimaced.  “Nothing works on me.”

            “Caitlin developed a serum that gave Jay his speed back but she can’t come up with an anesthetic for you?  No, there’s gotta be something.”

            “I think she was working on it,” Barry said, “just hadn’t gotten far with it.”

            “I’ll ask her.”

            “OK.”

            “Think you could try to sleep again?”

            “Still hurts a lot.”

            “I know, but it would be a lot easier for you if you got some sleep in while you healed.”

            “Yeah,” Barry said.

            “Just try,” Len said, “close your eyes.”

            Barry’s eyes fluttered closed, but there was still a cringe covering his features.

            “Just relax,” Len said, still stroking his hair.  “You’re OK.  It’s all OK now, and when you wake up, you’ll feel a lot better.”

            “Promise?”

            “Promise.”


	6. Car Accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry hits a car.  
> Requested: Barry needing a breathing tube and having to be restrained because he keeps trying to pull it out.  
> Well, this was a long one, hope you guys like it :)

 

            He was looking at the sky.  That’s all he processed at first.  Barry was looking at the sky and it was a nice day out, a few clouds, but the sun was bright.  Then he had the sudden realization that people did not normally just stare at the sky.  And that’s when he realized he was lying face up on the ground.

            His ears were ringing, and then other sounds started filtering in.  There was traffic, lots of beeping and the sound of engines, and then people.  He vaguely realized there was a lot of yelling, and then there was a body looking down at him, and suddenly the sky was gone.

            “Flash?”

            Barry blinked.  The image in front of him kept cycling in between two and three people and he really didn’t understand how someone could do that – maybe it was a meta.

            There was more yelling.  It was hurting his head.  His body slowly came back to him, the feeling of limbs and fingers, but he was intensely numb.  It felt a little bit like he was floating.

            “Someone call 911!”

            “Lift up his mask!”

            “Is he alive?”

            Barry turned his head to the side.  He could see feet, lots of legs, and people crouching, all close to him, too close.  He turned to the other side.  He was up against a wall.

            “Hey, easy, give him some space!”

            “What do we do?”

            “Is there an ambulance coming?”

            “Flash.”

            It was the same voice.  Barry turned back.  He was trying to connect the dots now, his mind whirring away, but the problem was everything was all fuzzy.  He couldn’t grasp anything solidly, the thoughts kept slipping in and out of the forefront of his mind.  Where was he?  What happened?  Why was he on the ground?  And on top of it, there were so many people, and they were crowding him now, and he vaguely knew that that was bad, that there was some danger in that, but he didn’t actually know why.

            “Are you with us, Flash?”

            Barry mumbled a response.  Flash.  Right, he was the Flash.  Speed.  That was the danger, right?  There was something with that, some risk?  He wasn’t sure.  His head was hurting now.  The rest of his body was fuzzy numb.  He tried moving his fingers, then his arms.  Only one of them responded.  He moved it in towards his side and looked over at his other arm.  There was something wrong with it.  He could only move it partway, only make the fingers twitch some.  It didn’t look right, but he didn’t know what it was about it that didn’t look right, just that it didn’t.  He looked up at the voice.  His vision was focusing a little bit better, now there was only one person.  Sometimes he slipped into two, but Barry would blink and he’d be back again.

            “You got hit by a car,” he said.

            No, that wasn’t right.  He could go so much faster than a car.  Right?  What happened?

            “Barry, Barry, are you there?”

            Barry turned his head from side to side.  Where was that voice?  He recognized it.  I… Iris?  No – no, Caitlin.  It was Caitlin.  Where was she?

            “Are you alright?  Barry talk to me.”

            “Hello?” the man said, he was bending over close to him now and he didn’t like that.  He looked confused.

            “Is… is there someone there?” Caitlin said.  Barry still couldn’t find her.

            “Yes – yes, are you – are you working with Flash?  He’s hurt.”

            “Yes, we have someone coming to get him right now, can you tell me his condition?  Is he responsive?”

            “His eyes are open, but he’s not responding to anything I’ve said.  He’s – he hit his head.  It’s bleeding.”

            “What happened exactly?  What are his injuries?”

            “He hit a car.  Um… his arms’ broken – or something, it’s – it’s not right, whatever it is, and his leg too.  There’s a lot of blood but it only seems to be coming from his head, I don’t know – it looks like he’s having trouble breathing, are you almost here?”

            Barry’s head was pounding.  His chest was starting to feel tight.  There was an ache developing along his back, and at first he thought it was just pressure from where he was lying down but as the feeling got more acute he realized it was only on about half of his back and it was a lot more than just some pressure.

            His head was swimming.  Things were going in and out of focus.  The voices kept going but he couldn’t pick anything out.  Pain was starting to lace up from his leg.  He still couldn’t feel anything from his arm.

            “I heard the Flash had a little road trouble.”

            There were more screams, which jarred Barry’s head, but brought him a little closer to reality again.  He looked over, and suddenly there was ice covering the wall next to him.  But… Len?  Why was Len there?

            “My, my, our little Scarlet speedster all laid up.  What are you, frozen?  I told you all to scram.”

            “You – you can’t just –”

            “I can, and I will, now get out of here before I decide you’d make a great Jack Frost.”

            “The – the police will be here soon – and the Flash’s friends!  They’re coming!”

            “Oh, I’m sure.”

            “I’m sorry,” the guy said, quieter, and then Barry heard footsteps.  And then he was looking up at Len.

            He had a hand on the side of his face in a second, the other on his shoulder, light.  “Hey, Scarlet,” he said, “how you doin there?”

            Barry tried to open his mouth, but even that was difficult.  He just kept looking up, confused, trying to place why Len had come in as Captain Cold but was now talking to him like normal, and shouldn’t they be fighting if they were in their personas?

            “Caitlin’s gonna be here in one minute,” Len said, “and we’re gonna get you loaded up and into Star.”

            Barry was starting to get scared.  Something was wrong.  His chest felt tight and painful, and the ache in his back was getting more and more distinct.  He was starting to recognize the fact that he wasn’t thinking straight, that he couldn’t remember how he got there or what happened.  He didn’t know what was going on.

            “W-w-wha-at?” He tried to get out the words, but his mind couldn’t string them together and his tongue was worse.

            “You’re a little banged up,” Len said, stroking his hair now, “but it’s OK.  Caitlin’s coming to fix you up.  Are you in pain?”

            Barry shook his head.  Then paused, and nodded.  That’s what was wrong with his head, right?  But Len said he was hurt… he didn’t hurt like he normally did when he got injured.  It was just uncomfortable, unpleasant.

            “OK, well, you’re gonna be alright,” Len said.

            “How is he?”

            Len turned, and no, Barry wanted him back.  He tried to say so, but all that came out was a whine.  Len looked back and traced a finger over his temple.

            “He’s either badly concussed or in shock, or both.  Probably both.”

            “Barry, can you tell me your last name?”

            His last name?  Right, people had last names.

            He just blinked at her.

            “He’s not really talking,” Len said.

            “OK,” Caitlin said, but it was quiet, more to herself.  She was going into doctor mode and when she reached to touch him he flinched.  He didn’t like doctor mode.  He wanted Caitlin.

            “C-C-Cait,” he tried, tried to articulate this sentiment, but it wasn’t working, she was looking at his arm, and he couldn’t feel that, but he didn’t like it.

            “Let’s load him in the van,” Caitlin said, voice rushed, “he’s unstable, I need the equipment at Star.”

            There were hands on him then, and no – he didn’t like that.  They kept crowding him.  He didn’t want that.  Cisco was there too, and they had a board, and there were hands all over him.  He tried to pull away, but they ignored the movements like he was merely swatting at them.  His limbs wouldn’t cooperate.

            There was pressure, a sudden dizzying lift, and then his back was spiking and his head pounded and he groaned.  Then he was flying.

            They were talking.  He couldn’t catch the words.  He knew they were saying them, but he couldn’t make sense of any of it.

            Once they were in the van Caitlin was only touching his arm, and that was better because he couldn’t feel that.  Len was stroking his hair and holding his hand though, and that was nice.  He had that look on his face though, that extra calm look and Barry was scared by it.  He only looked at him like that when something bad was about to happen.

            “Does this hurt, Barry?” Caitlin asked.

            Hurt?  Barry shook his head.

            “Can you feel this?”

            Feel what?  He didn’t think so.  But he felt his head.  So maybe?  What was she talking about?

            “Scarlet, do you feel Caitlin touching your arm?”

            Oh.  He shook his head.

            His chest was starting to hurt.  To really hurt, almost as bad as his head.  He frowned, tried to breathe deeply, but it wasn’t working.  Soon he was gasping, and he was getting scared, there was something wrong, and he needed to tell them.

            “Hu-hurts,” he said.

            “I know, Scarlet, it’ll get better soon.”

            No, no, his chest.  “Che-est.”

            “I know, Barry.  Caitlin’s going to make it better as soon as we get to Star.”

            But it hurt now.  Barry struggled to breathe.  He was starting to panic.  He didn’t know what was going on, why he was there, and now he couldn’t breathe.  Caitlin was doing something and Len had that face on and what was going on, what was going to happen?  That only happened when something bad was going to happen.

            “Cisco, we need to go faster.”

            “I’m going as fast as I can.”

            “Well it needs to be faster, he’s losing oxygen!”

            “I am breaking as many traffic laws as I can without crashing!”

            Barry’s chest was so tight.  He couldn’t breathe.  He was gasping, looking at Len.  He felt like he was drowning.

            “It’s OK, Scarlet,” Len said, but his grip on Barry’s hand was tight, his smile forced.  “Just try to stay calm.  Everything’s going to be OK.”

            And that’s when Barry passed out.

           

 

 

            He woke up to beeping, and this time he woke up all at once.

            He jerked forward and a pain laced up his throat to his mouth, and then the pain in his chest hit at the same time as a burning stab at his leg and he screamed but no sound came out.  He could hardly see anything at first, his vision all blurry, but it was bright lights and sterile white and then it started to focus and he realized he was in the cortex, but then there was another sharp, searing pain in his leg.

            He screamed.  No sound came out.  He tried to jerk his leg back but that hurt too and he tried to move his head to the side and realized he couldn’t and his lungs were trying to move faster but it wasn’t working.  He was freezing and sweating and trembling and everything hurt.

            “Scarlet?  Hey, it’s OK.”

            Barry tried to look over but couldn’t move his head and that’s when he realized there was something in his mouth, and that uncomfortable, half-terrifying feeling of something in his throat was not just an extension of the pain in his chest, there was actually something in there.

            He was making noises now, terrified, pain filled noises, but he couldn’t speak or even really scream.  Len moved in front of him and then there were hands on his face and Barry reached forward, but only one arm moved, the other was a mess of pain, and he grabbed onto Len’s wrist with his fingers trembling, knuckles white.

            “It’s OK,” Len said, “it’s alright, Scarlet.  You’re OK.”  He was stroking his hair, both hands on his face and Barry tried to move, tried to turn his head but he _couldn’t_ and he didn’t know what was going on and it _hurt_.

            Barry tried to shake his head, tried to tell him he wasn’t, that he wasn’t OK, that he was scared and in pain, but he couldn’t move.  His grip tightened on Len’s wrist, and he tugged, pulling on it, trying to communicate that he wasn’t alright, that something was wrong, that he needed it to stop, but Len just moved his hands down so it was resting on his shoulder instead.  He thrashed, moving his legs, jerking back again when there was more pain.  One of them was a scream of stabs and searing jolts but the other was just an ache, and he kicked out with that one, kept pulling on Len’s wrist, tried to move his torso but his chest hurt so much that he could only squirm and shake.

            “Easy, Scarlet,” Len said, “It’s alright.  Everything’s OK.  I’m right here, just focus on me.”

            But he couldn’t focus on Len, couldn’t focus on anything but the _can’t move, can’t talk, pain, stop, scared, no,_ running through his head.  He tried to swallow and his throat closed around whatever was in there and the feeling sent a jolt of panic through him, and then he gagged, and it felt like his chest was heaving upwards and he couldn’t breathe, and then he was grabbing the thing in his mouth because he had to get it _out_.

            “Hey, easy, Barry, easy, you need that in,” Len said, and he was pulling Barry’s hand away, and no, didn’t he understand Barry was choking?

            He fought with him, struggled to get his arm away and Len grunted and held it down with two hands and that was worse.  The thing was still in his throat and he was still choking and now Len was gone and his hand was being held down and Barry panicked and went into a full body thrash.

            “Jesus!”

            “Len, calm him down!”

            “I’m trying!”

            Barry opened his eyes to see Len back and looking at him, but he still couldn’t move his arm, no matter how hard he pulled.

            “Barry, it’s OK.  You need to stop fighting.  You have a ventilator in your mouth.  I know it’s not comfortable, but you need it in.”

            Barry closed his eyes, and tears dripped out, but he hardly noticed.  No, he needed it gone, he needed it out _now_.

            “Shh, baby, it’s OK,” Len said, “I know – I know it hurts.  Please just try to calm down, Scarlet.  It’s OK.”

            It wasn’t, it _wasn’t_.  He couldn’t breathe, he was choking.  Len brought one hand up to wipe at his face, and Barry was able to tear his hand free.  Before Len could stop him he got a grip on the thing in his mouth and yanked.

            Pain shot up his throat and Len yelled something and then Caitlin was there, with hands on his face and his arm was being pulled down and it was still there, he hadn’t gotten it out.  His hand was pressed flat to the bed and he yanked it free again, but Len caught his arm this time and moved it back down even while Barry struggled.

            “Barry, you can’t take it out, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Len said.  His face was pained, getting desperate.  “Please, Scarlet, it’s OK.  You’re going to be OK.  It’s a ventilator – that’s all, Barry – it’s helping you breathe, you need it in.”

            “We’re going to have to put restraints in.”

            Len froze.  Barry hadn’t really heard, was still thrashing and trying to get free, but Len turned just slightly.

            “I can hold him,” he said, fingers tightening on Barry’s wrist.   

            “I can’t work with him kicking and moving this much, and this needs to be done now before he heals with his leg like this,” Caitlin said.

            Len was starting to breathe too fast.  He looked back down at Barry, panicking and obviously in pain.  He let out a long breath.

            “It’s OK, Scarlet.  It’s going to be OK, sweetheart, I promise,” he said, unable to reach out to touch him because he was still holding down his arm, afraid to let go with one hand in case he was able to pull free again.

            Barry felt his leg being held still, and then there was a tug and something going around his ankle and suddenly he couldn’t move it any longer, his ankle pinned to the bed.  Another band of something around his thigh, which _hurt_ , and then the process was repeated with his other leg and when they got to his arm he was sobbing, because no, he knew what they were doing now, and he had to get the thing out, had to get away, had to do something and he already couldn’t move and he felt the material on his wrist and Len pressing his hand down to the bed and he sobbed, tears falling fast down his face, trying to scream, but he couldn’t.

            And then Len’s hands were back on his face, wiping at his cheeks, going through his hair, and Barry kept his eyes shut, kept crying, and he didn’t want Len to touch him, he was holding him down, he wouldn’t let him move, he was making him do this, but he was the only source of comfort there and there was a sick swirl in his stomach from it, the desire to push him away and beg him not to leave at the same time.

            There was so much pain.  Len kept talking to him, but Barry didn’t take in the words.  He couldn’t concentrate beyond the desperation and panic and his body’s screaming need for him to do something, to make it stop.

            It was a daze of terror-pain that slipped into a surreal half-consciousness where Barry was aware only in the sense that he _felt_.  Thoughts were too complex, words gone.  He was still struggling, still trying to move, but his efforts were getting weaker and weaker – losing strength.  Len was still stroking his hair, and Barry could see him, was aware of that, of his blue eyes in front of him, his face, a calm, soothing expression there.  He wasn’t coherent enough to pick up on the underlying tension there, just the mask of calm Len was portraying.  It worked to some extent – Barry calmed a little bit at Len’s presence, but it was a precarious kind of calming presence, slipping in and out of focus as Barry struggled to hang onto it, to seek any kind of grounding influence.

            By the time Caitlin was done working on his leg, and had moved to his arm, Barry was breathing on his own.  He had a collapsed lung, and his ribs were broken.  Caitlin had drained the air and taken care of it before Barry woke up, before putting in a ventilator when he stopped breathing.

            Barry felt a new hand on his face, and he opened his eyes, the images blurring.

            “Barry,” Caitlin said, her voice soft, gentle.  “I’m going to take the ventilator out now.”

            The words were syrup in his head, sliding apart before he could discern any meaning from them – it was just noise.

            Then there were arms blocking his view, and a sliding pressure-pain discomfort in his throat, and then he was gagging and swallowing and the thing was coming out, and he couldn’t breathe for a moment, and then it was gone.

            He kept gasping, struggling to get in breath.

            “Is he OK?” Len asked, looking as Barry tried to breathe.  He shot a look at Caitlin, the anxiety seeping out now, “does he need that back in?”

            “No,” Caitlin said, a hand on Barry’s shoulder, rubbing circles, “he’s OK.  I’m sure it didn’t feel good coming out – he’s just getting used to it again.”

            “Barry,” Len said, turning to him, but Barry was already starting to breathe more regularly, if shallow.  “Hey, Scarlet,” Len said, giving him a shaky smile.  “It’s OK.  Just breathe.”

            Barry didn’t hear.  And then there was a sharp pain at his shoulder, and he cried out.  He could yell now, but it hurt his throat – he gasped.  There was a pause, and Barry blinked, trying to make his vision focus, and then there was a shooting pain that tore up his arm, and Barry passed into unconsciousness.

            He was awake again in a few minutes, dazed, confused, and scared.  His limbs were still restrained and he tugged at them, panicking when he couldn’t move and the pain kept mounting, his arm the worst.

            “Scarlet?  Hey, Barry, it’s Len.  It’s alright, we’re at Star.  Relax, it’s OK.  Everything’s alright, we’re right here,” Len said, and he was suddenly in Barry’s line of vision and he tried to reach out to grab onto him and let out a sob when he couldn’t.

            “Hu-urts,” he said, whimpering.  His speech was slurred and much softer than usual, the words torn with a ragged breath.

            “It’s OK,” Len said, “Caitlin’s almost done.”

            “Len,” Barry said, his fingers were clenching on nothing, still desperately pulling against the restraint, trying to move towards Len, reach him, get away from the pain.

            “Easy, Red.  I’m right here,” Len said, his voice gentle and calm.  He reached up to trail his fingers through Barry’s hair.  “I’m right here.”

            Barry whimpered again and clenched his fingers, tried to tug his bad arm out of its restraint to move away from Caitlin.

            Len finally seemed to realize that Barry was trying to grab for him, and he took Barry’s hand with his left one, the other still in his hair.  Barry squeezed down hard, trembling.

            “It’s alright,” Len said, “I’m right here.”

            “I-i… ur…”  Barry couldn’t get the words out, gasping around air, his mouth moving.

            “I know,” Len said, voice still gentle, calm, “I know it hurts.  You’re doing great.  It’s almost over.  It’s gonna get real better real soon, OK, Scarlet?”

            Barry whimpered again.  He couldn’t get enough breath to speak.  A line of worry broke out on Len’s face, and his eyes left Barry’s.

            “Cait,” he said, “he’s having trouble breathing.”

            Caitlin was at his side in a second, a stethoscope to his chest, listening as Barry struggled in breaths.

            “It sounds fine,” she said, “the x-rays showed the lung healing well enough that it doesn’t need any more attention.”  Her eyes moved back to Barry, a grimace on her face, and she smoothed a hand over his good shoulder, comforting, before looking back at Len.  “He’s in pain,” she said, “and he’s scared.  He’s going into mild shock.  He’s not breathing well because of it, but his lungs are fine now – or at least, fine enough to function while they heal completely.” 

            Len frowned, looking back at Barry.  He was still gasping, struggling, and he was getting pale now.  Caitlin frowned too.

            “I don’t want him passing out right now though, with the shock.  His blood pressure has already dropped significantly, and it got worse when he went under there for a few minutes, and it hasn’t gone back up.”

            “Does he need the breathing tube again?” Len asked.

            Caitlin paused, and then she swore.  “It might be best.”  Another second of hesitation, and she was getting the ventilator set up again.

            Barry hadn’t been paying attention, but as soon as he saw the tube in Caitlin’s hands again he whipped around to Len, eyes wide, hands jerking at the restraints.

            “No,” he said, the sound short and cracked, but louder than before.  “No,” he said again, and then he was frantically tugging at the restraints, shaking his head and alternatively yelling and just mouthing no over and over again, his voice getting higher as Caitlin approached him.

            “Scarlet,” Len said, “Barry, it’s to help you breathe.  Barry, please, just – it’s going to help you, baby, I promise.  It won’t hurt.”

            But Barry was crying now, harsh and fast sobs that made it even harder to breathe and he was deathly pale.

            Something started beeping loudly, and Caitlin had the ventilator out of her hands and holding them up in front of Barry.

            “OK, Barry – Barry I won’t put it in.  I won’t put it in, Barry, OK, look at me.  No tube, we won’t do it, just take deep breaths for me.”

            Barry looked from her to Len, panting, eyes red and glassy, still scared.

            “It’s OK,” she said, glancing at the monitors to her side.  Eventually the beeping stopped again.  “It’s alright.  We’ll do an oxygen mask instead, OK?  That sound better?  We’ll just do an oxygen mask, and you just take nice deep breaths for me, OK?  Can you do that?”

            Barry nodded, but flinched when Caitlin tried to put the mask on.

            “You’re OK,” Caitlin said, fitting it on him even as he squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered.  “It’s OK.  Just a mask.  It’s gonna make it easier to breathe.”

            Barry managed to take some deep breaths at Caitlin and Len’s insistence, until his heartrate and respiratory rate were just on the outside of normal for him.

            But Caitlin still needed to finish looking at his arm, which based on the x-rays would need minor surgery to get some of the shattered bone into place.  Unless he wanted to go through a long and painful healing process which may or may not actually leave his arm fully functioning, then it was looking like Caitlin would have to do some manipulating of the bone.

            She shared a look with Len, and then rubbed Barry’s arm, getting his attention.

            “Barry,” she said carefully.  “I need to look at your arm now.  It’s going to hurt, but I need you to focus on breathing nice and deep, so I don’t have to put the ventilator in.”

            Barry tensed up, eyes wide.  He shot a look over at Len, starting to tremble again.

            “It’s OK,” Len said, “you’re going to be fine.  Almost done now.”

            Barry shook his head, then turned and shook his head at Caitlin.  He tugged at the restraints.  Caitlin paused, looking at them, but then she looked back over at his arm, and she didn’t want to make the same mistake as she had when she took the ventilator out early.  She didn’t want to take the restraints off only to realize she needed them ten minutes later.  She didn’t want to put him through the ordeal, the fear associated with the act of putting them on.  She let out a long breath.

            “Look at Len,” she said calmly, “and focus on taking deep breaths.”

            She moved over to his arm.  Barry looked back at Len, trembling, scared.  Len held his hand and cupped the side of his face, and saw the moment Caitlin started by the sudden full body tense that Barry exhibited.

            “Easy, Scarlet,” Len said, combing his fingers through Barry’s hair.  “That’s it,” he said as Barry took deep breaths, breathing through the pain.  “That’s it, that’s great, Barry.  You’re doing great.”

            Barry wanted to ask how long this was going to take, how bad it was going to be, but he could barely breathe _without_ speaking.  A sharp pain shot up his arm and he screamed – a rush of air with a guttural sound to it, muffled through the oxygen mask.  The pain had hardly cleared when there was another sharp streak, and then another, and Barry was pulling at the restraints again, unconsciously, writhing.  Black spots scattered over his vision and he couldn’t think, couldn’t pause long enough through the pain to gather himself at all.  It came in wave after wave and Barry struggled and screamed and gasped and his vision blacked out but he was awake, was awake but semi-conscious in a way that had him writhing and yelling and fully experiencing the pain but which blocked out everything else until he didn’t hear or see, couldn’t concentrate on anything beyond the pain.

            When it finally abated, his ears seemed to ring and his vision was spotty around the edges, and Len came into view, all at once.  Barry blinked and he was suddenly there, the same time that words came rushing back into his brain.

            “Stop,” he said, was saying before he could even think about what the word was, and then he was begging.  “Stop, _stop_.”

            “Cait had to set your arm,” Len said, but the words were hard to grasp, “it’ll get better now.  It’s almost over.”

            Len was stroking his hair.  Barry was pulling away from Caitlin, not registering the fact that he wasn’t moving because his arms were still pinned down, just tugging and tugging until Cisco had to lean a hand down on his bicep as well.  He was starting to hurt himself, wrists chafing even with the padding.

            “Easy, buddy,” Cisco said.

            Barry turned to look at him, or more really at the noise, because he didn’t realize it was Cisco for a good few moments.  But Len had a hand around his face, pulling him gently back to looking at him, away from where Caitlin was working.  He was covered in blood and his arm still didn’t look quite right and Len didn’t want him to go farther into shock or start to panic anymore at the sight of it.

            Barry’s eyes slipped shut.  Everything was getting slippery again and he couldn’t hang on.

            “Hey, hey, Scarlet – Barry, you have to stay awake.  Open your eyes, Scarlet, come on.”

            Barry whined, and then tugged at his arms again, trying to shake Cisco loose when he found his arm even more restrained then it had been.  He whimpered, but his eyes slipped open again, finding Len.

            “Hey, there you are,” Len said, and he smiled at him, and Barry wanted, needed to tell him that something was wrong, this was wrong, he was hurt, there was danger, something was wrong, and he needed to get away or go for help or something – Barry didn’t know, just that there was something wrong and he needed to tell Len but he could barely speak.

            “L-len,” he started, and then gasped.

            “Shh,” Len said, “It’s OK.  Just keep those eyes open for me, OK?  Don’t talk.  Just relax and keep those eyes right on me, Scarlet.”

            Barry shook his head.  It wasn’t OK.  He was hurt, was hurt bad and it kept hurting worse and Len was there and was there a meta or…

            “Barry, hey – eyes open, Scarlet.  Stay with me – right here with me – that’s it.”

            Barry blinked, trying to focus.  There was two of everything, and then it slowly merged back to one, and there was Len again.  Barry blinked.  His eyes kept slipping shut.  He hurt, something was wrong.

            His eyes closed and then Len was shaking him and Barry whimpered.  He tried to move away, couldn’t move, and then started whimpering some more.

            “You gotta stay awake with me, Scarlet.  Stay awake for me, OK?  You’re doing great.”

            There was a painful cut of something and Barry arched and yelled and then there was a constant stinging burning over his arm and it was terrible, but then it didn’t stop and it wasn’t as bad as the pain before, but this was almost worse because it didn’t white out everything else, it was just there, and it wasn’t letting up.

            “Stop,” he said, pulling against the restraints, tears starting to well up in his eyes.  “Stop – h-hurts.”

            “I know, sweetheart, Cait’s almost done, it –”

            “ _Please_ –”  There was more, but Barry started gasping, then coughing, and everything hurt so much, his chest aching now too.  He couldn’t think straight and it hurt and he couldn’t move, something was holding him down and Len didn’t understand and Caitlin was there but wasn’t because he couldn’t see her and she was in doctor-mode which meant she wouldn’t listen anyway and he just wanted it all to stop, needed it all to _stop_.

            “Easy, easy, Scarlet.  You’re doing so good, baby, it’s almost over.”

            Barry didn’t realize that he had been crying until he was gasping from it, trying to breathe.

            “I know it hurts, sweetheart, but you have to try to breathe.  Just breathe.  Relax.  It’s alright.  It’s gonna be OK, Cait’s almost done, it’ll stop soon.”

            Things started to dissolve again.  It hurt, and that was it.  Somewhere was Len’s voice, and the feel of unyielding bands on his ankles and wrists, but it was going fuzzy.  His vision faded out and his hearing was ringing like coming from far away – even the pain turned hazy, became indistinct, more like a miserable, heavy pressure all over.

            “Barry – Barry, keep your eyes open for me.  Come on, Barry, stay here with me.”

            “It’s alright,” Caitlin said.  Barry was mumbling something, eyes closed, sweat covering his forehead.  He was trembling, tears on his face.  Len looked up at her.  “I’m almost done,” she said.  “He’s stable.”

            Len let out a sigh, but still held Barry’s hand, looking down with a pained frown.  But Barry apparently wasn’t out, because his eyes opened a minute later, confused.

            “Hey, Scarlet,” Len said, forcing another pained smile.  Caitlin was wrapping up his arm now.

            “Len,” Barry said, his voice slurring, wavy and indistinct, “hurts…”

            “I know, Caitlin’s finishing up.”

            Barry nodded, and his eyes started to sharpen.  He started to look more aware, and he only seemed to grow paler.

            “It’s alright,” Len said, stroking his hair, holding his hand.  He could see Barry starting to panic.  “It’s OK.  Caitlin’s almost done now.  Really almost done this time, OK?  She’s just cleaning up.”

            Barry was silent, just started shaking worse, still growing pale.  He was looking at Len like if he looked away he’d start drowning.

            “All done,” Caitlin said, stabilizing his arm and leaving it to heal.

            Barry tugged at the restraints.  “Off,” he said, “I – want… off.”  He struggled to breathe, but he tugged on them again, making his point clear.

            Len hesitated, looking at Caitlin.

            “ _Off,_ ” Barry said, and there was clear distress in his voice.  “Off, Len – Len, I – n-need – please, off.”

            “Scarlet,” Len started, keeping his voice low and calm, “you’re hurt very badly.  Caitlin’s done working, but, sweetheart, you have to stay very still and –”

            “ _No_ ,” Barry said, his voice cracking, “I w-want – want – off, _now_ – please, ha-have – _Len_ –”  He cut off in a gasp.

            “Shh, easy,” Len said, tensing at the sudden burst, “easy, Scarlet, breathe.  It’s OK.”

            Barry started to cry.  Len shushed him and wiped away the tears until Barry had exhausted himself.  Meanwhile Caitlin secured his legs and arm in modified braces that wouldn’t allow movements of the joints, so as to keep them splinted for healing.  Then she finally undid the last restraint on his good arm.

             The first thing Barry did was try to get up.  That was met with a lot of pain and a sudden burst of shouting, hands coming from all directions to keep him on the bed.  Then he started whimpering, squirming.  He started hyperventilating when he found he could only move one limb, and then he was crying hard, uselessly trying to lift up his other arm, which was pinned down to his waist.

            “Barry, sweetheart, it’s OK,” Len said.  He looked at Caitlin, a desperate expression on his face.  Caitlin’s expression just looked pained.

            “Barry, it’s alright.  I’m all done.  You’re just healing now,” she tried.  He opened his eyes, panicked and pain-filled, and looked from her to Len.

            “Hey, it’s OK,” Len said, giving his hand a squeeze.  “All done now.”

            “C-can’t _move_ ,” Barry said. 

            “You broke a lot of bones, baby,” Len said, “they have to be still while they heal.  Caitlin put them in braces.  That’s all.  Your legs and arm are in braces, Barry, that’s why you can’t move them.  It’s just so they can heal right.  You’re OK.  It’s gonna be OK.”

            “I – I W-want – wanna go… home,” Barry said, his breathing labored.

            “We can’t move you right now, Scarlet,” Len said.  “Why don’t you just try to get some sleep, OK?  I promise it’ll feel a lot better when you wake up.”

            Barry shook his head.  He was still squirming.  “No – Len, please.  N-need – not… here.”  He was trying to say more but was left gasping.

            “It’s OK,” Len said, “baby why don’t you just focus on breathing, OK?  You don’t need to talk.  It’s alright now.”

            “No, L-len, _home_ ,” Barry said.

            “We can’t leave yet,” Len said, “you’re too hurt.  You need to heal first.  Then we’ll go home, OK?  As soon as you can be moved, alright – I promise.”

            “No,” Barry choked.

            Len didn’t respond.  Barry was struggling more with every word and an argument right now was not what he needed.  “You’re OK,” he said instead, “I know it hurts right now, but it’ll be a lot better when you wake up.  Just try to sleep.”

            Barry shook his head, let go of his hand just to grab at his shirt.  He looked terrified.

            “I’m not going anywhere,” Len said, “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

            Barry tried to pull him forward, and Len got the hint.  He pushed the chair he was in closer and helped Barry shift over a little bit, to the edge of the bed.  Barry curled towards the side of the bed, head almost on Len’s chest.

            “I’m right here,” Len mumbled, keeping his voice low now.  “Right here.  I’m not going anywhere.  Just sleep, Scarlet.  You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

            Barry kept whimpering, but Len kept shushing him and giving quiet reassurances, until he finally dropped off into a fitful sleep.


	7. Venom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> long one this time - I tried to combine a couple of prompts I got, so this has "Could you write something where Len and Barry are stuck in some kind of far place with Barry badly hurt and no medical help" and " what about some kind of poison or venom? Like a snake bite-type wound from a humanoid snake person?" Thanks for reading :)

            “No, it’s a Snake man – as in a – you know what, nevermind, look, Barry got bit and the boat is trashed, can you send someone?  Like as soon as possible?”

            “Len, I’m fine,” Barry said.  He was sitting on the ground where Len had parked him, one hand wrapped around the wound, which was on his arm.  It was bruising red and black around the puncture wounds, but so far, besides some pain at the site, Barry felt fine.

            Len frowned at him, continuing.  “It was like that Shark guy – like some sort of man snake hybrid, except a lot more snake then man.”

            “Is it gone now?”

            “Uh…” Len trailed off.  “I took care of it.”

            “You killed him?” Cisco interrupted, voice up an octave.

            “No, well, yes, but it’s really more snake, like it just kind of looks like slightly humanoid, it wasn’t talking or anything, and it was self-defense anyway.”

            “What does the puncture site look like?” Caitlin asked.

            Len told her, and she said to keep the wound lower than Barry’s heart, which Len got Barry to do with some muttering.

            “My phone’s almost dead,” Len said, “Can you send a boat?”  He looked up at the sky.  It was going to start getting dark in a couple of hours.

            “Barry can’t run?  Is he dizzy?  Sweating or shaking?”

            “No, he says he feels fine,” Len said, looking over, “but he twisted his ankle.”

            There was a beat of silence on the other end.  “I don’t think we could get a ferry out to you this late.  We could call the coast guard, but…”

            “Barry’s healing,” Len said, eyes closing for a moment.

            “Let me call Felicity,” Caitlin said, “She can send a jet over.”

            “A jet?”

            “It’s a long story,” Caitlin said.

            “Alright, whatever gets us out of here fastest,” Len said, “I don’t like the look of the wound, Caitlin, I think it’s getting worse.  And I don’t have anything to treat him with here, I barely have a first aid kit.”

            “It’s going to be fine, Len,” Caitlin said steadily, “Cisco’s calling Felicity.  I’ll tell them to bring antivenin with them just in case, but his body will probably fight it off fine on his own.”

            “OK,” Len said, “is there anything I should do if it gets worse?”

            “Just keep him calm and still.  We’ll get someone there soon.  Felicit–”

            Her voice cut off abruptly, and Len frowned.  “Hello?  Caitlin?”  He looked at his phone.  The screen was black.  He swore.

            Barry’s phone had gotten tossed into the water during their brief fight, and now Len’s was dead.  He sighed, took a few deep breaths to calm himself, and then went back to Barry’s side.  Caitlin wasn’t even that worried, and if Caitlin wasn’t worried, then he shouldn’t be, right?

            “What did she say?” Barry asked as he walked over.

            “She said you need to stay still,” he said.

            Barry frowned at him.  “I feel fine,” he said.

            Len just frowned.  The bite was on his upper arm, so it was difficult to get it lower than his heart.  He had Barry sitting up leaning against a rock, arm at his side, for now.   He could already see it swelling, the skin around the bandage red and irritated, and he didn’t like it one bit.

            “It looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a little while,” Len said.  He looked around.  They were on a small island off coast, outside a tiny town, where they had rented a boat.  Len didn’t know how long it would take for someone to get there, a couple hours or several.  “I’m gonna see what I can salvage from the boat,” he said.

            He wound up dragging over a large frame of wood, one side of the boat, which he figured he could make into a shelter in case it started to rain, which it thankfully didn’t look like it was going to.  There was a box on the boat with lifejackets and a couple blankets, which thankfully hadn’t fallen into the water.  He retrieved both.  The lifejackets would make for a good pillow, and it was already getting cool out.  He didn’t know what the temperature would drop to once the sun went down.  There was the slim first aid kit, nothing but some bandages and half a tube of antiseptic in it left.  They had packed more food, thankfully.  Barry’s metabolism meant that they constantly over packed on food and water.

            When Len stopped, finally sitting down beside Barry, he paused for a moment.

            Barry was avoiding his gaze.  He was taking in deep breaths, and there was a strain in his expression.

            “Scarlet?” Len said, carefully, slowly – masking the bolt of panic.

            Barry looked over and feigned a smile that flickered as he looked away.

            “What’s wrong?” Len asked.

            “Nothing,” Barry said, but then cringed.  “Just, it’s ah, it’s hurting a little… a little more now.”

            Len looked over.  It looked even more swollen, the skin outside the bandages a little more red, but there was no use checking over it.  There wasn’t anything Len could do.

            “How bad?” he asked.

            “Um… not terrible.”

            “On a scale of one to ten?”

            “Six.”

            Len frowned at him.  His version of a six could be very different from Barry’s version of a six.

            “Tell me if it gets worse,” he said, “want some water?”

            Barry nodded, and Len uncapped one for him then handed it to him.  Barry drank the whole thing.

            Len tried to make him more comfortable.  He cushioned the rock with lifejackets and when Barry started shivering he draped blankets over him, even as Barry protested that Len didn’t have any.  Len didn’t care, although the heat that he was starting to pick up radiating off Barry was starting to worry him.  Barry said he was cold though, and Len didn’t have any medical supplies, didn’t have anything that could help him, so he settled for holding Barry’s good hand, rubbing circles on it with his thumb as Barry leaned against him and closed his eyes.

            “Len,” Barry said suddenly.  They had been silent for almost a half hour now, and Len had thought Barry had fallen asleep.  There was a hesitant note in his voice that had Len fully awake in a second.

            “Yeah?”

            “I um… well, you said to tell you, and the… the pain is worse.”

            Barry’s voice was tight.  Len shifted over, and looked Barry in the face again.  His eyes were bright, face flushed, and a tension in the lines of his face that Len had come to recognize when he was in pain.

            “What number?”

            “Eight.”

            Len took in a deep breath.  He wanted for a second to yell, to tell him that he should have told him when it was at a seven, when it started to get worse, but the anger died away.  There wasn’t anything he could do about it anyway.

            “Hopefully they’ll be here soon,” he said, and he ran a hand through Barry’s hair.  “Caitlin said it would be OK.” 

            Barry nodded, and he looked worried for the first time since he was bitten.  He was quiet for another twenty minutes or so, settling into Len’s arms this time, leaning back against his chest.  Len watching anxiously, noticing as Barry’s breathing started to get more labored, and sweat started to bead up on his forehead.

            “Len,” Barry said.  Len took in a sharp breath.  Barry’s voice was tight with pain, and then he whimpered.  “Len it – it really hurts now.”

            Len held him tighter, and kissed the top of his head.  “It’ll be OK,” he said, “I’m sorry, Scarlet.  They’ll get here soon and give you the antivenin and it’ll stop hurting.  That stuff works fast – you’ll feel better in minutes.”

            Barry’s breath kept coming short and shallow.  He started shivering, and then trembling, and then didn’t stop.  He was sweating now, and Len was sure he was way too hot, but he clutched the blankets towards them, and insisted he felt cold.  He had his head against Len’s shoulder, lying in his lap.  Len could feel his breaths against his neck.

            “Hurts, Lenny,” he whimpered, and Len rubbed his back.

            “I know, baby.  Help is coming.  They’ll be here soon.”

            “Hurts so much.”  He whimpered again, voice cracking on the words.

            “It’s going to be OK,” Len said.

            “I… I don’t feel good.”

            A few minutes later he heaved forward and threw up on the ground next to them.  He kept dry heaving afterwards, spitting up bile.

            When he finally finished his eyes watered and there was a dazed gloss over them.  He slumped against Len, clutching at his shirt with his good hand weakly.

            “I donfeel good,” he mumbled against him, his words almost slurred.  Len rubbed his back.

            “It’s OK.  They’ll be here soon.  You’ll be OK.” 

            Len kept repeating the words, a sharp panic in him now.  He shoved it down, kept repeating out loud that Barry would be OK as much as to reassure himself as to reassure Barry.  That was the only option.  Barry had to be OK.  Barry was always OK.  He got hurt, but his body was amazingly resistant.  He’d be OK.  He would.

            “It hurs,” Barry said, and now he was definitely slurring, the words coming out weighed down and he was whimpering.

            “I know, baby.  It’s OK.  It’ll stop soon.”

            Barry’s eyes were closed, his breathing labored, and he was drenched in sweat.  His hand was wrapped loosely around Len’s shirt, fingers curled in the material, but too weak to grasp properly like he had been before.

            Len started to shift the blankets off of them.  Barry didn’t respond to it at first, but when a blast of wind hit them he shivered and whined, burrowing his head farther into Len’s chest.  He grasped reflexively for the blanket, hands finding nothing.

            “Cold,” Barry said, and he whimpered, his voice sounding desperate.  “Blank-blanket.  It’sso cold.”

            “You’re burning up, Scarlet,” Len said softly, “we gotta cool you down a little.”

            “Cold,” Barry repeated, eyes blinking open for a moment, looking for the blankets Len had tossed off of them.  He made a grab for it and Len held him back, keeping him tucked in against his chest.  “Lenny,” Barry said, confused and desperate, “Lenny – th-the blanket.  Cold.  Please.  Need it.”

            “Give it a few minutes, Scarlet.”

            Barry didn’t understand.  Len could see that.  He was losing him, his eyes getting glassier, face so pale now.  But Barry didn’t have the strength to keep arguing, just whimpered and whined against him, curled up on himself.  After a few minutes of watching him tremble and make various pleading noises against him, which might have been words, Len couldn’t take it any longer.  He took one blanket, a thin one, and wrapped it around them again, tucking it in around Barry’s neck.  Barry grabbed at it, pulling it in against his side and shivering again.

            “Just one,” Len said.  The sun was down now.  It was getting cooler anyway.  Barry was still a living furnace, but Len couldn’t bear to watch him suffer any more than he already was.

            A short while after that, Barry started to mumble against him.  Len caught bits of words and fragments of names, but most of it was gibberish.  Every once in a while Barry would move spasmodically, flinging out his hand or jerking roughly, a leg kicking out.  Len shushed him and moved him back to his original position, rambling off calming words as he did.  Barry never responded.  His eyes were half lidded now, glazed underneath.  Len was fairly certain he was hallucinating.

            The panic crawled up his throat.  He was scared.  He was terrified.  He was alone at night on an island in the middle of nowhere and Barry was dying of a snake venom bite.  He had to push it away, had to tell himself Barry would be fine, they’d be here any minute, and stick that on repeat in his mind to keep from letting the fear consume him.  He held on tight to Barry and calmed him when he moved or yelled, and he refused to let himself consider an outcome that didn’t involve him forcing Barry to stay at Star while Caitlin finished her tests later on.  Barry would argue he was fine and wanted to go home and they were overreacting and Len would ask with mock seriousness if he was a doctor and they would make him stay and get checked out until Caitlin was sure he was fine.  Fine – he’d be fine. 

 

 

 

 

 

            When the helicopter finally came down Barry was dry heaving again.  Len couldn’t believe the flood of relief he felt as they landed in an open area near them.  Two men and a women ran towards them with a stretcher, and Len was bombarded with questions about Barry’s condition the second the women was within speaking distance.

            Barry was strapped onto the stretcher, had to be pried away from Len were he had curled around him.  They loaded him into the helicopter and then Len was in a second later.  And then they were off.  They had heart monitors and an oxygen mask on him in minutes, and then there was an IV in his arm and something was being put into it.  Len sat numbly and held Barry’s hand as he squirmed at the treatment.  When the substance from the IV began to enter his veins Barry’s face turned pained.  He flinched and then squirmed, whimpering, but then calmed down again.

            “I’m giving him the antivenin,” the women said.  She said something else Len didn’t hear to one of the men, apparently her assistant.  Len watched as Barry’s breathing evened out, his shaking stopped, and his eyes flickered open.  He didn’t say anything though, and they slipped shut again.  The doctor tried to talk to him, to get him to respond, but Barry didn’t seem to hear her.

            After twenty minutes had passed one of the men was calling Star Labs.

            “The treatment isn’t working,” he said.

            “It’s alleviated some of the symptoms, but he’s still in shock and unresponsive.  He’s improved, which seems to mean the antivenin was close enough to the snake man’s venom to work, but he’s not recovering the way a normal victim would,” the doctor said.  She was rewrapping the puncture site after cleaning it out. 

            The man repeated what she said into the phone, and then continued with, “we’ll be at Star in a half hour.  Ray is sending more antivenin.”

            Len looked down and squeezed Barry’s hand.

 

 

 

            When Barry woke up he seemed to be slipping from a daze.  He vaguely remembered harsh pain and confusion, followed by the clash of images of the snake fight.  He opened his eyes slowly to find Len sitting next to him, asleep in the chair.

            Barry smiled faintly, and then looked around.  He was in Star labs, an IV in his arm.  There was an aching pain in his limbs and a sharp one in his arm but the searing hurt from before was gone.  He felt tired, and he was weak, but he remembered the pain and sickness from before and what a relief it was to not have to wake up to that. 

            “Len,” he said, “Len.”

            Len started awake, jerking upright.  When his eyes settled on Barry they softened and he smiled.

            “Hey, you’re awake,” he said, pulling the chair closer to Barry’s bed.  “How do you feel?”

            “Sore,” Barry said, “what happened?”

            Len huffed.  “Well, you got bit by some snake thing and then nearly died.  I swear, Barry, you can’t take one vacation without almost getting killed?”

            Barry smiled.  “What happened though?  I don’t really remember after it started hurting.”

            Len frowned, grimacing.  “You were out of it.  Some people from Argus showed up in a helicopter.  Do you know a Diggle?  He was one of the guys.  Cait said you guys knew him.”

            Barry nodded.  “Yeah – he still around?”

            “Had to leave,” Len said, “but Ray sent in a shit ton of antivenin for you.  You’re lucky you know so many billionaires, Barry – that stuff cost an outrageous amount.”

            Barry cringed.  “So I’m all good now?  A little antivenin and I’m fine.”

            Len opened his mouth, already starting to cringe, when Caitlin walked in.

            “Not exactly.”  They both looked over at her as she and Cisco came into the room.

            “Dude, good to see you awake and alive,” Cisco said, grinning.

            “You’re body burns through the antivenin before it can be fully absorbed,” Caitlin said, “We’ve had to keep giving you more to keep it from putting you in shock and damaging the tissue around the wound.”

            “Oh,” Barry said.  Caitlin gave him a sympathetic look then, and Barry waited for the bad news.  That look always meant bad news.

            “The problem, is the antivenin is making you sick,” she said.

            “Sick?” Barry said.  “I don’t feel sick.  I mean, a little sore and tired, but not sick.”

            “We’ve had to split up the doses of antivenin because of it,” Caitlin said, “as far as I can tell it’s an increased version of serum sickness.  We just gave you another dose about twenty minutes ago, so it should hit you in another ten or so.”

            “What’s serum sickness?” Barry asked, liking this less and less.

            “It’s a side effect from the antivenin,” Caitlin said, “some people get it after having antivenin administered – usually about five to ten days later.  For you that means about a half hour after we give you a dose.”

            “Alright, well, how many more doses do I need?” he asked.

            “We’re not sure,” Caitlin said, “you’re getting better, but it’s been going slowly, and we’re not sure when we can stop.  You’ve got at least the rest of today though.  We’ll see if we can stop before tonight.  I’ll have to check your bloodwork and monitor the wound for any regression.  As of right now your symptoms keep coming back after about an hour and a half.  We’ve been giving you the antivenin every two hours.”

            “Alright, so I’m stuck here today and then I can go home?”

            “Maybe.  We’ll have to see tonight if it keeps regressing like it is now.”

            Barry sighed.  “Alright.”

 

 

 

 

            Len held Barry’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it like he did when Barry was in pain or upset, and Barry found it touching and sweet, but he wasn’t really sure why he was doing it right then.  Barry felt fine except for being achy and tired.  Iris had dropped off a bunch of his things, including some books and his laptop, but had since gone to work.  Caitlin said she had promised to come back after she got out.  Barry was currently looking up youtube videos and watching them with Len, who kept giving him a strained smile, a forced calm over his features.

            He was laughing when the first streak of pain hit.  It jolted up his arm from the bite, leaving behind a burning tingling.  Barry stopped suddenly mid-laugh, frozen, and then gasping.

            “You OK?” Len asked, sitting straight up now, leaning closer.

            It took him a moment to catch his breath, but then Barry was nodding.  He rubbed at the  bandage over the wound.  “Yeah,” he said, “it just hurt for a second.”

            Len frowned, and then there was more of that forced calm.  Barry went back to watching videos.

            But only a minute or two later he started to notice a growing pain in his joints, and a swirling sickness in his stomach.  His head started to pound.

            “I think that serum sickness is starting to kick in,” he said.  Another bolt of pain shot up his arm, though less intense this time.  He winced.

            “It only lasts about twenty minutes,” Len said, and Barry wondered how he knew that.  He settled back against the bed, trying to ignore the growing headache and the pain radiating now from the puncture wound.

            After only another five minutes Barry shut the laptop.  It was too bright, and he was shielding his eyes with his good arm and groaning.  His head was pounding and he felt like he was going to be sick.

            “You’re already halfway through,” Len said, and Barry grimaced and groaned again.  He didn’t want to go through another ten minutes, but he’d done a lot worse.  He started to pant as the pain in his joints intensified.  There was an all over ache now and sharp points of pain at his joints, blinding streaks whenever he tried to move.  He was pretty sure the headache was the worst he’d ever had, and he was starting to sweat as well.

            “This sucks,” he got out, but it was followed by a whimper as he tried to shift his arm.

            “Almost over,” Len said.

            Caitlin brought a cool cloth for his forehead, and Cisco tried to distract him with jokes, but nothing was really helping.  He started to feel nauseas, and was just quick enough to tell them before Cisco was shoving a trashcan next to him and he was throwing up again.  After that, the pain got worse.  Spikes of it shot into his stomach and more seared down his arm.  He was dizzy and he felt freezing one second and burning up the next.

            “Almost over,” Len said beside him and Barry shuddered.  Len was running a hand through his hair and Barry squeezed down on the other one still in his hand.

            “It really hurts,” he said quietly, panting.  “It really, really hurts.”

            “You’re OK,” Len said, his voice also quiet, his fingers gentle as they kept going through his hair.  “It’s almost over.  You’re doing great.”

            It finally started to abate a few minutes later.  The pain receded fairly quickly, gone in another five or ten minutes, back to the slight ache and sickness that Barry had felt before, maybe even a little bit better.

            “Do you want some water?” Len asked, and Barry nodded.  He handed him the glass and Barry drank.  Len watched him as he set it back down, and then looked down at his lap.  When he looked up again his expression was somewhat guarded, and scared.

            He swallowed hard once.  “So… I… every two hours?”

            Len nodded, keeping his face neutral.  Barry took in a long breath, but then nodded.

            “OK,” he said, and took another deep breath, nodded some more, like he was trying to collect himself.  “OK… I… I can do that.  It’s just… I’ll get an hour and a half between, that’s… that’s not that bad.  I can do it.”

            “I’m sure you can,” Len said, his voice firm.  “You’ll be fine.  I know it’s not pleasant, but you’ll be fine.”

            Barry nodded some more, and then he quickly changed the topic, opening his laptop and asking if Len had seen some video before.  Len went with it, pushing aside the painfully present topic of the next dose.

            When Caitlin came in for the next round, Barry looked up and then at the clock.

            “It hasn’t been two hours yet, has it?” he asked.

            Caitlin nodded.  “Yep, it’s time for the next one.”

            His face crumpled, but only for a second before he pulled it together again.  “That… oh.  I guess I wasn’t paying attention to the time.”  He gave her an anxious smile, and she smiled back before injecting the antivenin into the IV again.  A second later Barry’s face screwed up and he grabbed at the his arm where the IV was.

            “Ah,” he said, cringing, “ow – it – ah – it burns.”

            “It’ll go away in a second,” Caitlin said, but Barry squirmed and rubbed at his arm, wincing.

            But he relaxed again a few minutes later.  And then he seemed to look surprised.

            “I feel better,” he said.

            “You should for a little bit,” Caitlin said, “the new round of antivenin in your system should make things better for a bit.”

            Barry nodded, relaxed a little further.  Len reminded Barry that the serum sickness wouldn’t hit for another half hour, and Barry started to read a book.  Len watched the clock, could see Barry trying hard not to look at the clock.  After a half hour Barry started to cringe, and then his hands started to shake.

            “Want me to read to you?” Len asked, and Barry nodded, handing the book over.  He read for about ten minutes, watching Barry’s face contract with pain the whole time, his body getting tenser and tenser as he curled up on his side, eyes squeezed shut.  Len was in the middle of a line when Barry interrupted him.

            “Len,” he said, and Len looked up.  Barry was breathing hard, and there were tears in his eyes.  He whimpered and Len put the book down.

            “I’m right here,” he said, “you’re doing great.  I’m right here with you.”

            “ _Hurts_ ,” Barry said, and then he shut his eyes and whimpered again and one tear fell halfway down his face before it dried on his skin.  Barry choked on a sob, obviously trying to keep from crying.  “Lenny, it _hurts._ ”

            “I know, Scarlet,” Len said, petting Barry’s hair again, moving closer when Barry leaned into the touch.  “You’re doing great.  It’s almost done.”

            “I wannit to stop so much,” Barry said, his voice thin.  He swallowed another dry sob, shaking with it.  “Oh God, it hurts.”  He made a harsh noise of pain, and hid his face against Len’s arm.

            “It’s OK, Scarlet.  It’s almost done.  Just hang in there.”  Len kept stroking his hair, watching him shake.  “I think tomorrow we’ll go out,” he said, trying to distract him.  “Once this is all over.  We can get ice cream.  You could get ten sundaes and really freak out the people working.  We should really have you enter an eating contest.  Bet we could get a lot of free meals.”

            Barry snorted, and Len counted that as a win. 

            “But we’ll go out tomorrow, some restaurant – you can pick.  Something nice.  Maybe I’ll book you a massage.  You’re going to be tense as hell after today anyway.  That’ll be nice at least – have you ever had a massage?  A real one, with a professional?  You’ll feel so much better afterwards, Scarlet.  We’ll have to go.”

            Barry nodded against him, but let out a high whine of pain only a few moments later.  He tensed all up again, before relaxing marginally as the wave passed.

            He ended up falling asleep as the sickness passed.  Len had hope that he would sleep through the next dose.  He didn’t wake up when Caitlin administered the next round of antivenin, although he grimaced and fidgeted in his sleep for a few minutes.  But when a half hour had passed and he started to show signs of distress in his sleep again, he woke up.

            He was distressed, confused, looking all over the place and making harsh gasping noises as he woke up.  Len managed to calm him down, but it didn’t last long.  He was writhing in pain soon afterwards.  He was crying now, sobbing into Len’s side as Len rubbed his back and told him that it was almost over.

            Len knew when the pain stopped, because the tense lines of Barry’s body relaxed.  He watched as Barry’s breathing slowly evened out after that, but at least another ten minutes for him to really calm down.  After that he still didn’t move, completely still, the only sound his deep breathing.

            “I don’t think I can do this,” he said suddenly.

            Len looked down.  Barry moved back, away from him enough that he could lean back and look at him.  There was a miserable, desperate expression on his face, but more than that he just looked scared, dread clearly evident in his eyes.

            “You’ll be fine,” Len said, fingers running through Barry’s hair as Barry kept staring up at him with that look.

            Barry swallowed thickly.  “No, Len, I don’t think I will.”

            Len looked at him for a long moment.  “Barry,” he said, “you will be OK.  You’ll get through this.”

            “Len, it…” he trailed off, his expression breaking, and he shook his head, squeezed his eyes shut.  “It hurts so much.  I don’t think I can make it through another round, Len.”  His voice cracked and he looked back up.

            Len gave him a small smile.  _You have to,_ he thought, but he just smoothed back Barry’s hair again.  “You’re going to be fine,” he said again, “it’ll be over soon.”

            They waited until the next treatment.  Barry was tense and he had started to tremble when he moved too much, like his muscles couldn’t handle the strain.  He was starting to look paler, and it had Len worried.  But when Caitlin took another blood test, she said that he was improving. 

            Barry watched with an apathetic stillness as Caitlin put the next dose through the IV.  He hardly winced this time at the initial pain, before relaxing again and waiting the half hour.  When the bout of sickness started back up, he just closed his eyes and tensed up, whimpering at the pain.  Len tried to comfort him, but Barry was withdrawing inside his head, trying to escape the pain.  Sweat beaded up on his forehead and tears leaked out of his eyes, and he whimpered and cried out the whole time.  By the end of it he was a mess, seemingly only half-conscious.  He didn’t respond to anything Len said, and when Caitlin went to wipe away the sweat on his forehead he turned away, flinching back and whining when she put a hand against the side of his face to hold him still.  When Len moved closer and put an arm around him Barry leaned into the contact, curling up.  His squirming and whimpering continued until he dropped off into sleep.

            When he woke up again and saw that it was just another ten minutes until Caitlin was going to administer the next dose he turned to Len.

            “I don’t want the next one,” he said.

            Len sighed, one hand already curling in his hair.  “I know, Barry.  It –”

            “No,” he said, his face serious.  “Len, I don’t want the next one.”

            Len paused.  Caitlin came over.  “Barry –” she started to say.

            “Let me try to heal without it,” Barry said, “you said I was improving.  I want to skip the next one.  If I get worse then you can keep going, but I don’t want this one.”

            “Barry,” Caitlin said, “you will get worse if we don’t give you this one.  It’s fighting off the poison, but it’s going slowly.  If I wait and don’t give it to you now then you’ll get worse, and we’ll have to keep doing this longer.”

            “Let’s just try it,” Barry insisted.

            “You’re going to regress if I do that,” Caitlin said.  “You’ll make yourself sicker, it will hurt just as much as if I had given you the antivenin if we wait long enough, and then you’ll have to go through more doses to make up for it.  I don’t know how fast you’ll regress either.  If we wait too long, it would be like starting over from the beginning.”

            Barry’s teeth set.  “I want to try it.”

            Caitlin took in a long breath.  “No, Barry.”

            “Cait-”

            “I know you’re in pain,” she said, “but this is still the best course of action.”

            “I don’t care,” he said, an angry undertone entering his voice now, his face hard.  “I want to try it.”

            “We’re not going to,” she said, her voice just as hard.

            “You can’t just ignore what I want!” Barry said, “It’s my body, it’s –”

            “As your doctor,” she said, “I am evaluating you as being too distressed to make informed decisions on your health, and we’re going to proceed with the treatment, since it’s the fastest and least painful way to get you healthy again.”

            “You can’t do that,” Barry said, clearly angry now, face getting red with it, “I’m not incapacitated, I can think fine, I can make decisions fine –”

            “You’re in pain, Barry,” she said, “and you’re not a doctor.  I’m telling you this is the best course of action.  There isn’t a scenario where you get healthy and are in less pain.”

            “You have to consult a family member then,” Barry said, “if you really think I can’t make proper decisions.  You can’t just do what you want.  You have to inform a family member.”  He looked over at Len.  “Tell her you don’t want her to give me the next dose.”

            Len took Barry’s hand gently. “Barry,” he said.  Barry waited.  Len just kept looking at him.  He didn’t say anything.

            Barry’s expression slipped a little, some of the anger receding while fear entered his expression.  “Tell her you don’t want her to give me the dose,” he said again.  When Len still didn’t speak, just kept calmly looking at him Barry started to get anxious.  He looked from Len to Caitlin and back.  “Len,” he said, his eyes widening, his expression getting more desperate.  “Tell her you don’t want her to give me the _dose_.”  Barry blinked, waiting.  He squeezed down on Len’s hand.  “ _Len_.”

            “No, Barry,” Len said gently.

            “But –” he said, once again looking from Caitlin to Len.  “You – I don’ want it!”

            “I know that, Barry,” Len said, “but you need it.”

            Barry shook his head.  “No,” he said.  “No, I… _no_.”

            Caitlin was taking his IV now.  She had the antivenin ready.  She hadn’t said anything, was hoping Barry wouldn’t notice, but he looked over and jerked back.

            “No,” he said again, “No, Caitlin – _don’t_.”  He tried to grab for her, and Len kept his hand tight in his, pulling his back.  “I don’t want it,” Barry said, desperate now, tugging his hand away, almost frantic.  “Len, I don’t want it, let go – _let go_.”

            “You have to have it, Barry,” Len said.  “I know you don’t want it, but you need it.”

            “Stop,” Barry yelled, tears in his eyes as Caitlin administered it.  A moment later and he was crying, twisting as the pain hit.  When the initial wave passed and Len finally let go of his hand he curled up in a ball, hiding his face, still crying.

            Len rubbed his back.  “I know this is hard,” he said, “but it’ll all be over soon.  It’s going to be OK.” 

            He kept rubbing his back until the serum sickness hit.  Barry cried, and he was disruptive this time, thrashing around, yelling in pain.  He was covered in sweat and his throat grew hoarse.  He swore and yelled and blamed Len and Caitlin, first swearing at them, and then as the pain mounted begging them to make it stop.  It didn’t matter that by then there was nothing they could do to make it stop, Barry kept begging them anyway, it either not registering, or merely that he didn’t care anymore.  When it was over he whimpered and kept crying.  Len carefully drew him into his side again, and he went despite his angry shouting earlier.

            “Please stop,” Barry said, his voice barely a whisper, so soft Len almost didn’t catch it.  “Please not again.  Please.”

            “Shhh,” Len said, because there wasn’t anything he could say to make it better.  He just tried to keep Barry calm as he cried in his arms.  The pain receded, and left a stark exhaustion on his face.

           

 

 

 

            Barry slept through most of the next dose, and then after the pain passed and he had stopped thrashing and yelling and crying, he once again begged them not to do the next one.  But Caitlin was optimistic that it would be the last one, that his body could heal itself fine after that one.  So Barry endured another round, and then Caitlin took blood tests at five minute intervals, watching the levels, and found it to be continuing to recede instead of spreading more.  She told Len that he could take Barry home.

            Barry was weak, and he struggled to make it to the car, leaning heavily on Len.  It probably would have been better for him to stay the night at Star labs, but both Caitlin and Len knew how much he hated sleeping there.

            So they made it to the car, Len helped him in, and by the time he had pulled out of the Star labs parking lot, Barry was asleep.

            He woke him briefly to make it into their apartment and to bed.  Barry lay down on the bed without even taking his shoes off.  Len took them off for him, and after changing out of his jeans and shirt slid into bed next to him.  Barry looked up and blinked at him, eyes hazy, before closing them again.  Len put a hand in his hair and left it there.  Barry mumbled something but Len didn’t catch it.

            “Just sleep now, Scarlet,” he said instead. 

**Author's Note:**

> So requests are totally welcome and please comment and let me know what you thought of this! :)


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